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J^C^L^""  •- 


/U  ^^/  f 


THKEE  FEATHERS. 


^  'Noml 


By  WILLIAM  BLACK, 


AUTHOR  OP 


"THE  STRANGE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  PHAETON,"  "A  PRINCESS  OF  THULE," 
"KILMENY,"  "A  DAUGHTER  OF  HETH,"  " MADCAP  VIOLET, "  &c. 


^C^' 


NEW  YORK: 

HARPER    &    BROTHERS,    PUBLISHERS, 

FRAKKLIN     SQUARE. 

1877. 


William    Black's    Novels. 


MADCAP  VIOLET.     8vo,  Paper,  50  cents;  i2mo,  Cloth,  U  So. 
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Published  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  New  York. 

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TO 


E.  W.  B. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter  Page 

I.  Master  Harry 0 

11.  Jim  Crow IG 

III.  EeS   ANGCSTiE   DOMI 21 

IV.  The  Last  Look  Back 08 

V.  Throwing  a  Fly 40 

VI.  The  AMONG  the  Tailors r>i 

VII.  Some  New  Experiences G3 

VIII.  Wenna's  First  Triumph G9 

IX.  The  King  op  Evil  Omen 71 

X.  The  Snares  of  London 81 

XL  The  Two  Pictures 81) 

XII.  The  Chain  Tightens 95 

XIII.  An  Unexpected  Convert 102 

XIV.  "Sie  hat  so  Sanft,  so  Lieblich" lOG 

XV.  A  Leave-taking  OP  Lovers 112 

XVI.  The  Fair  Spring-time 121 

XVII.  Only  a  Basket  of  Primroses 129 

XVIII.  Confidences 137 

XIX.  The  First  Message  Home 112 


VIU  CONTENTS. 

Cuin-ER  Faob 

XX.  Tintagel's  Walls 147 

XXI.  Confession 162 

XXII.  On  "Wingsiof  Hope 169 

XXIII.  Love-making  at  Land's  End 174 

XXIV.  The  Cut  Direct 185 

XXV.  Not  the  Last  Word 192 

XXVI.  A  Perilous  Truce 198 

XXVII.  Further  Entanglements 208 

XXVIIL  Farewell  ! 211 

XXIX.  Mabvn  Dreams 221 

XXX.  Fern  in  die  Welt 231 

XXXI.  "Blue  is  the  Sweetest " 239 

XXXII.  The  Exile's  Return 245 

XXXIII.  Some  Old  Friends 255 

XXXIV.  A  Dark  Conspiracy 268 

XXXV.  Under  the  White  Stars 278 

XXXVL  Into  Captivity 287 

XXXVII.  An  Angry  Interview 295 

XXXVIII.  The  Old  IIalf-forgotten  Joke 301 

XXXIX.  New  Ambitions 307 

XL.  An  Old  Lady's  Apology 317 


THREE   FEATHERS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

MASTER     HARRY. 


"  You  are  a  wicked  boy,  Harry,"  said  a  delightful  old  lady  of 
seventy,  -with  pink  cheeks,  silvery  hair,  and  bright  eyes,  to  a  tall 
and  handsome  lad  of  twenty,  "  and  you  will  break  your  mother's 
heart.  But  it's  the  way  of  all  you  Trelyons.  Good  looks,  bad 
temper,  plenty  of  money,  and  the  maddest  fashion  of  spending  it 
— there  you  are,  the  whole  of  you.  Why  won't  you  go  into  the 
house  ?" 

"  It's  a  nice  house  to  go  into,  ain't  it  ?"  said  the  boy,  with  a 
rude  laugh.     "  Look  at  it !" 

It  was,  indeed,  a  nice  house — a  quaint,  old-fashioned,  strongly- 
built  place,  that  had  withstood  the  western  gales  for  some  hundred 
and  fifty  years.  And  it  was  set  amid  beautiful  trees,  and  it  over- 
looked a  picturesque  little  valley,  and  from  the  garden  terrace 
in  front  of  it  you  could  catch  a  glimpse  of  a  tiny  harbor  on  the 
Cornish  coast,  with  its  line  of  blue  water  passing  out  through  the 
black  rocks  to  the  sea  beyond. 

"  And  why  shouldn't  the  blinds  be  down  ?"  said  the  old  lady. 
"  It's  the  anniversary  of  your  father's  death." 

*'  It's  always  the  anniversary  of  somebody's  death,"  her  grand- 
son said,  impatiently  flicking  at  a  standard  rose  with  his  riding- 
switch;  "and  it's  nothing  but  snivel,  snivel,  from  morning  till 
night,  with  the  droning  of  the  organ  in  the  chapel,  and  the  burning 
of  incense  all  about  the  place,  and  everybody  and  everything  dress- 
ed in  black,  and  the  Avhole  house  haunted  by  parsons.  The  par- 
sons about  the  neighborhood  ain't  enough — they  must  come  from 

A2 


10  THREE    FEATHERS. 

all  parts  of  the  country,  and  you  run  against  'cm  in  the  hall,  and 
you  knock  them  over  when  you're  riding  out  at  the  gate,  and  just 
when  you  expect  to  get  a  pheasant  or  two  at  the  place  you  know, 
out  jumps  a  brace  of  parsons  that  have  been  picking  brambles." 

"  Harry,  Harry,  where  do  you  expect  to  go  to,  if  you  hate  the 
parsons  so  ?"  the  old  lady  said ;  but  there  was  scarcely  that  ear- 
nestness of  reproof  in  her  tone  that  ought  to  have  been  there. 
"  And  yet  it's  the  way  of  all  you  Trelyons.  Did  I  ever  tell  you 
how  your  grandfather  hunted  poor  Mr.  Pascoe  that  winter  night  ? 
Dear,  dear,  what  a  jealous  man  your  grandfather  was  at  that  time, 
to  be  sure !  And  when  I  told  him  that  John  Pascoe  had  been 
carrying  stories  to  my  father,  and  how  that  he  (your  grandfather) 
was  to  be  forbidden  the  house,  dear  me,  what  a  passion  he  was  in ! 
lie  wouldn't  come  near  the  house  after  that ;  but  one  night,  as 
Mr.  Pascoe  was  walking  home,  your  grandfather  rode  after  him 
and  overtook  him,  and  called  out, '  Look  here,  sir !  you  have  been 
telling  lies  about  me.  I  respect  your  cloth,  and  I  won't  lav  a 
hand  on  you ;  but,  by  the  Lord,  I  will  hunt  you  till  there  isn't  a 
rag  on  your  back  ?'  And  sure  enough  he  did ;  and  when  poor 
Mr.  Pascoe  understood  what  he  meant  he  was  nearly  out  of  his 
wits,  and  off  he  went  over  the  fields,  and  over  the  walls,  and  across 
the  ditches,  with  your  grandfather  after  him,  driving  his  horse  at 
him  when  he  stopped,  and  only  shouting  with  laughter  in  answer 
to  his  cries  and  prayers.  Dear,  dear,  what  a  to-do  there  was  all 
over  the  country-side  after  that;  and  your  grandfather  durstn't 
come  near  the  house — or  he  was  too  proud  to  come ;  but  we  got 
married  for  all  that — oh  yes !  we  got  married  for  all  that." 

The  old  lady  laughed  in  her  quiet  way. 

"You  were  too  good  for  a  parson,  grandmother,  PU  be  bound," 
said  Master  Harry  Trelyon.  "  You  are  one  of  the  right  sort,  you 
are.  If  I  could  find  any  girl,  now,  like  what  you  were  then,  see 
if  I  Avouldn't  try  to  get  her  for  a  wife." 

"  Oh  yes!"  said  the  old  lady,  vastly  pleased,  and  smiling  a  little; 
"there  were  two  or  three  of  your  opinion  at  that  time,  Harry. 
Many  a  time  I  feared  they  would  be  the  death  of  each  other.  And 
I  never  could  have  made  up  my  mind,  I  do  believe,  if  your  gi*and- 
father  hadn't  come  in  among  them  to  settle  the  question.  It  was 
all  over  with  me  then.  It's  the  way  of  you  Trelyons;  you  never 
give  a  poor  girl  a  chance.  It  isn't  ask  and  have — it's  come  and 
take ;  and  so  a  girl  becomes  a  Trelyon  before  she  knows  where 


MASTER    HARRY.  H 

she  is.  Dear,  dear,  what  a  fine  man  your  grandfather  was,  to  be 
sure ;  and  such  a  pleasant,  frank,  good-natured  way  as  he  had 
with  him.  Nobody  could  say  No  twice  to  him.  The  girls  were 
all  wild  about  him ;  and  the  story  there  was  about  our  marriage ! 
Yes,  indeed,  I  was  mad  about  him  too,  only  that  he  was  just  as 
mad  about  me ;  and  that  night  of  the  ball,  when  my  father  was 
angry  because  I  would  not  dance,  and  when  all  the  young  men 
could  not  understand  it,  for  how  did  they  know  that  your  grand- 
father was  out  in  the  garden,  and  asking  nothing  less  than  that  I 
should  run  away  with  him  there  and  then  to  Gretna  ?  Why,  the 
men  of  that  time  had  some  spirit,  lad,  and  the  girls,  too,  I  can 
tell  you ;  and  I  couldn't  say  No  to  him,  and  away  we  went  just 
before  daylight,  and  I  in  my  ball-dress,  sure  enough,  and  we  never 
stopped  till  we  got  to  Exeter.  And  then  the  fight  for  fresh  horses, 
and  off  again ;  and  your  grandfather  had  such  a  way  with  him, 
Harry,  that  the  silliest  of  girls  would  have  plucked  up  her  spirits ! 
And  oh !  the  money  he  scattered  to  get  the  best  of  the  horses  at 
the  posting-houses ;  for,  of  course,  we  knew  that  my  father  Avas 
close  after  us,  and  if  he  overtook  us,  then  a  convent  in  France  for 
me,  and  good-bye  to  George  Trelyon — " 

"  Well,  grandmother,  don't  stop  !"  cried  the  lad  before  her.  He 
had  heard  the  story  a  hundred  times,  but  he  could  have  heard  it 
another  hundred  times,  merely  to  see  the  light  that  lit  up  the 
beautiful  old  face. 

"  We  didn't  stop,  you  booby !"  she  said,  mistaking  his  remark ; 
"  stopping  wasn't  for  George  Trelyon.  And  oh !  that  morning  as 
we  drove  into  Carlisle,  and  Ave  looked  back,  and  there,  sure  enough, 
was  my  father's  carriage  a  long  way  off.  Your  grandfather  swore, 
Harry — yes,  he  did ;  and  well  it  might  make  a  man  swear.  For 
our  horses  were  dead  beat,  and  before  we  should  have  time  to 
change  my  father  would  be  up  to  claim  me.  But  there !  it  was 
the  luckiest  thing  that  ever  happened  to  me,  for  who  could  have 
expected  to  find  old  Lady  MacGorman  at  the  door  of  the  hotel, 
just  getting  into  her  carriage ;  and  when  she  saw  me  she  stared, 
and  I  was  in  such  a  fright  I  couldn't  speak ;  and  she  called  out, 
'  Good  heavens,  child,  Avhy  did  you  run  away  in  your  ball-dress  ? 
And  who's  the  man  ?'  '  His  name,  madam,'  said  I,  *  is  George 
Trelyon.'  For  by  this  time  he  Avas  in  the  yard,  raging  about 
horses.  'A  nephcAv  of  the  Admiral,  isn't  he?'  she  says;  and  I  told 
her  he  was ;  and  then  quick  as  lightning  what  does  she  do  but 


12  THREE    FEATHERS. 

whip  around  into  the  yard,  get  hold  of  your  grandfather,  my  dear, 
and  bundle  both  of  us  into  her  own  carriage  !  Harry,  ray  father's 
carriage  was  at  the  end  of  the  street,  as  I  am  a  living  woman. 
And  just  as  wc  drove  off  we  heard  that  dear,  good,  kind  old  creat- 
ure call  out  to  the  people  around,  *  Five  guineas  apiece  to  you 
if  you  keep  back  the  old  gentleman's  carriage  for  an  hour !'  and 
such  a  laughing  as  your  grandfather  had  as  we  drove  down  the 
streets  and  over  the  bridge,  and  up  the  hill,  and  out  the  level  lanes. 
Dear,  dear,  I  can  see  the  country  now.  I  can  remember  every 
hedge,  and  the  two  rivers  we  crossed,  and  the  hills  up  in  the 
north ;  and  all  the  time  your  grandfather  kept  up  the  laugh,  for 
he  saw  I  was  frightened.  And  there  we  were  wedded,  sure  enough, 
and  all  in  good  time,  for  Lady  MacGorman's  guineas  had  saved 
us,  so  that  we  were  actually  driving  back  again  when  we  saw  my 
father's  carriage  coming  along  the  road — at  no  great  speed  to  be 
sure,  for  one  of  the  horses  was  lame  and  the  other  had  cast  a 
shoe — all  the  result  of  that  good  old  creature's  money.  And  then 
I  said  to  your  grandfather,  *  What  shall  we  do,  George  V  '  We 
shall  have  to  stand  and  deliver.  Sue !'  says  he ;  and  with  that  he 
had  the  horses  pulled  up,  and  we  got  out.  And  Avhcn  my  father 
came  up  he  got  out,  too,  and  George  took  me  by  the  hand — there 
was  no  more  laughing  now,  I  can  tell  you,  for  it  was  but  natural 
I  should  cry  a  bit — and  he  took  off  his  hat,  and  led  me  forward 
to  my  father.  I  don't  know  what  he  said,  I  was  in  such  a  fright ; 
but  I  know  that  my  father  looked  at  him  for  a  minute — and 
George  was  standing  rather  abashed,  perhaps,  but  then  so  hand- 
some he  looked,  and  so  good-natured  ! — and  then  my  father  burst 
into  a  roar  of  laughter,  and  came  forward  and  shook  him  by  the 
hand ;  and  all  that  he  would  say  then,  or  at  any  other  time  to  tlie 
day  of  his  death,  was  only  this — '  By  Jupiter,  sir,  that  was  a  devil- 
ish good  pair  that  took  you  straight  on  end  to  Exeter !'  " 

"  I  scarcely  remember  my  grandfather,"  the  boy  said ;  "  but  he 
couldn't  have  been  a  handsomer  man  than  my  father,  nor  a  better 
man  either." 

"  I  don't  say  tliat,"  the  old  lady  observed,  candidly.  "  Your 
father  was  just  such  another.  '  Like  father,  like  son,'  they  used 
to  say  when  he  was  a  boy.  But  then,  you  see,  your  father  would 
go  and  choose  a  wife  for  himself  in  spite  of  everybody,  just  like 
all  you  Trelyons,  and  so — " 

But  she  remembered,  and  checked  herself.     She  began  to  tell 


MASTER    HARRY.  13 

the  lad  in  how  far  he  resembled  his  grandfather  in  appearance, 
and  he  accepted  these  descriptions  of  his  features  and  figure  in  a 
heedless  manner,  as  of  one  who  had  grown  too  familiar  with  the 
fact  of  his  being  handsome  to  care  about  it.  Had  not  every  one 
paid  him  compliments,  more  or  less  indirect,  from  his  cradle  up- 
Avard !  He  w^as,  indeed,  all  that  the  old  lady  would  have  desired 
to  see  in  a  Trelyon  —  tall,  square-shouldered,  clean-limbed,  with 
dark  gray  eyes  set  under  black  eyelashes,  a  somewhat  aquiline 
nose,  proud  and  well-cut  lips,  a  handsome  forehead,  and  a  com- 
plexion which  might  have  been  pale  but  for  its  having  been 
bronzed  by  constant  exposure  to  sun  and  weather.  There  was 
something  very  winning  about  his  face,  when  he  chose  to  be  win- 
ning ;  and  when  he  laughed,  the  laughter,  being  quite  honest  and 
careless  and  musical,  was  delightful  to  hear.  With  all  these  per- 
sonal advantages,  joined  to  a  fairly  quick  intelligence  and  a  ready 
sympathy,  Master  Harry  Trelyon  ought  to  have  been  a  universal 
favorite.  So  far  from  that  being  the  case,  a  section  of  the  per- 
sons whom  he  met,  and  whom  he  shocked  by  his  rudeness,  quickly 
dismissed  him  as  an  irreclaimable  cub ;  another  section,  with  whom 
he  was  on  better  terms,  considered  him  a  bad-tempered  lad,  shook 
their  heads  in  a  humorous  fashion  over  his  mother's  trials,  and 
were  inclined  to  keep  out  of  his  way ;  while  the  best  of  his  friends 
endeavored  to  throw  the  blame  of  his  faults  on  his  bringing  up, 
and  maintained  that  he  had  many  good  qualities  if  only  they  had 
been  properly  developed.  The  only  thing  certain  about  these 
various  criticisms  was  that  they  did  not  concern  very  much  the 
subject  of  them. 

"And  if  I  am  like  my  grandfather,"  he  said,  good-naturedly, 
to  the  old  lady,  who  was  seated  in  a  garden-chair,  "  why  don't  you 
get  me  a  wife  such  as  he  had  ?" 

"  You  ?  A  wife  ?"  she  repeated,  indignantly  ;  remembering 
that,  after  all,  to  praise  the  good  looks  and  excuse  the  hot-head- 
edness  of  the  Trelyons  was  not  precisely  the  teaching  this  young 
man  needed.  "  You  take  a  wife  ?  Why,  what  girl  would  liave 
you  ?  You  arc  a  mere  booby.  You  can  scarcely  write  your  name. 
George  Trelyon  was  a  gentleman,  sir.  He  could  converse  in  six 
languages — " 

"  And  swear  considerably  in  one,  I've  heard,"  the  lad  said,  with 
an  impertinent  laugh. 

"  You  take  a  wife  ?    I  believe  the  stable-boys  are  better  educated 


14  THREE    FEATHERS. 

than  you  are  in  manners,  as  well  as  in  learning.  All  you  are  fit 
for  is  to  become  a  horse-breaker  to  a  cavalry  regiment,  or  a  game- 
keeper ;  and  I  do  believe  it  is  that  old  wretch,  Pentecost  Luke, 
who  has  ruined  you.  Oh !  I  heard  how  Master  Ilarry  used  to 
defy  his  governess,  and  would  say  nothing  to  her  for  days  to- 
gether, but — 

'As  I  was  going  to  St.  Ives, 
I  met  fifty  old  wives.' 

Then  old  Luke  had  to  be  brought  in,  and  Luke's  cure  for  stub- 
bornness was  to  give  the  brat  a  gun  and  teach  him  to  shoot  star- 
lings. Oh !  I  know  the  whole  story,  my  son,  though  I  wasn't  in 
Cornwall  at  the  time.  And  then  Master  Ilarry  must  be  sent  to 
school ;  but  two  days  afterwards  Master  Harry  is  discovered  at 
the  edge  of  a  wood,  coolly  seated  with  a  gun  in  his  hand,  waiting 
for  his  ferrets  to  drive  out  the  rabbits.  Then  Master  Harry  is 
furnished  with  a  private  tutor ;  but  a  parcel  of  gunpowder  is 
found  below  the  gentleman's  chair,  with  the  heads  of  several  lu- 
cifer  matches  lying  about.  So  Master  Harry  is  allowed  to  have 
his  own  way ;  and  his  master  and  preceptor  is  a  lying  old  game- 
keeper, and  Master  Harry  can't  read  a  page  out  of  a  book,  but  he 
can  snare  birds,  and  stuff  fish,  and  catch  butterflies,  and  go  clifE- 
hunting  on  a  horse  that  is  bound  to  break  liis  neck  some  day. 
AVhy,  sir,  what  do  you  think  a  girl  would  have  to  say  to  you  if 
you  married  her  ?  She  would  expect  you  to  take  her  into  society ; 
she  would  expect  you  to  be  agreeable  in  your  manners,  and  be 
able  to  talk  to  people.  Do  you  think  she  would  care  about  your 
cunning  ways  of  catching  birds,  as  if  you  were  a  cat  or  a  sparrow- 
hawk?" 

He  only  flicked  at  the  rose,  and  laughed ;  lecturing  had  but 
little  effect  on  him. 

"Do  you  think  a  girl  would  come  to  a  house  like  this — one 
half  of  it  filled  with  dogs  and  birds  and  squirrels,  and  what  not, 
the  other  furnished  like  a  chapel  in  a  cemetery  ?  A  combination 
of  a  church  and  a  menagerie,  that's  what  I  call  it." 

"Grandmother,"  he  said,  "these  parsons  have  been  stufiing 
your  head  full  of  nonsense  about  me." 

"  Have  they  ?"  said  the  old  lady,  sharply,  and  eying  him  keen- 
ly. "  Are  you  sure  it  is  all  nonsense  ?  You  talk  of  marrying — 
and  you  know  that  no  girl  of  your  station  in  life  would  look  at 
you.  "\Miat  about  that  public-house  in  the  village,  and  the  two 
girls  there,  and  your  constant  visits  ?" 


MASTER    HARRY,  15 

He  turned  around  with  a  quick  look  of  anger  in  his  face. 

"  Who  told  you  such  infamous  stories  ?  I  suppose  one  of  the 
cringing,  sneaking,  white-livered —     Bah  !" 

He  switched  the  head  oflE  the  rose  and  strode  away,  saying,  as 
he  went — 

"Grandmother,  you  mustn't  stay  here  long.  The  air  of  the 
place  affects  even  you.  Another  week  of  it,  and  you'll  be  as  mean 
as  the  rest  of  them." 

But  he  was  in  a  very  bad  temper,  despite  his  careless  gait. 
There  was  a  scowl  on  the  handsome  and  boyish  face  that  was  not 
pleasant  to  see.  He  walked  around  to  the  stables,  kicked  about 
the  yard  while  his  horse  was  being  saddled,  and  then  rode  out  of 
the  grounds  and  along  the  highway,  until  he  went  clattering 
down  the  steep  and  stony  main  street  of  Eglosilyan. 

The  children  knew  w^ell  this  black  horse ;  they  had  a  supersti- 
tious fear  of  him,  and  they  used  to  scurry  into  the  cottages  when 
his  wild  rider,  who  seldom  tightened  rein,  rode  down  the  pre- 
cipitous thoroughfare.  But  just  at  this  moment,  when  young 
Trelyon  was  paying  little  heed  as  to  where  he  was  going,  a  small, 
white-haired  bundle  of  humanity  came  running  out  of  a  doorway, 
and  stumbled,  and  fell  right  in  the  way  of  the  horse.  The  lad 
was  a  good  rider,  but  all  the  pulling  up  in  the  world  could  not 
prevent  the  forefeet  of  the  horse,  as  they  were  shot  out  into  the 
stones,  from  rolling  over  that  round  bundle  of  clothes.  Trelyon 
leaped  to  the  ground  and  caught  up  the  child,  who  stared  at  him 
with  big,  blue,  frightened  eyes. 

"  It's  you,  young  Pentecost,  is  it  ?  And  what  the  dickens  do 
you  mean  by  trying  to  knock  over  my  horse,  eh  ?" 

The  small  boy  was  terrified,  but  quite  obviously  not  hurt  a  bit ; 
and  his  captor,  leading  the  horse  with  one  hand  and  affixing  the 
bridle  to  the  door,  carried  him  into  the  cottage.  "  Well,  Mother 
Luke,"  said  young  Trelyon,  "  I  know  you've  got  too  many  chil- 
dren, but  do  you  expect  that  I'm  going  to  put  them  out  of  the 
Avay  for  you  ?" 

She  uttered  a  little  scream,  and  caught  at  the  boy. 

"  Oh !  there's  no  harm  done ;  but  I  suppose  I  must  give  him  a 
couple  of  sovereigns  because  he  nearly  frightened  me  out  of  my 
wits.  Poor  little  kid !  It's  hard  on  him  that  you  should  have 
given  him  such  a  name.  I  suppose  you  thought  it  was  Cornish 
because  it  begins  with  Pm." 


16  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"You  knaw  'twere  his  vatbcr's  name,  Maaster  Harry,"  said  Mrs. 
Luke,  smiling,  as  she  saw  that  the  child's  chubby  fingers  were 
being  closed  over  two  briglit  gold  pieces. 

Just  at  that  moment  Master  Harry,  his  eyes  having  got  accus- 
tomed to  the  twilight  of  the  kitchen,  perceived  that  among  the 
little  crowd  of  children,  at  the  fireside  end,  a  young  lady  was  sit- 
ting. She  was  an  insignificant  little  person,  with  dark  eyes ;  she 
had  a  slate  in  her  hand ;  the  children  were  around  her  in  a  circle. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon.  Miss  AVenna !"  the  young  man  said, 
removing  his  hat  quickly,  and  blushing  all  over  his  handsome 
face.  "  I  did  not  see  you  in  the  dark.  Is  your  father  at  the  inn  ? 
— I  was  going  to  see  him.     I  hope  I  haven't  frightened  you." 

"  Yes,  my  father  has  come  back  from  Plymouth,"  said  the 
young  lady,  quietly,  and  without  rising.  "And  I  think  you 
might  be  a  little  more  careful  in  riding  through  the  village,  Mr. 
Trelyon." 

"  Good-morning,"  he  said.  "  Take  better  care  of  Master  Pente- 
cost, Mother  Luke."  And  with  that  he  went  out  and  got  into 
the  saddle  again,  and  set  o2  to  ride  down  to  the  inn,  not  quite 
so  recklessly  as  heretofore. 


CHAPTER  11. 

JIM    CROW. 

When  Miss  Wenna,  or  Morwenna,  as  her  mother  in  a  freak  of 
romanticism  had  called  her,  had  finished  her  teaching,  and  had 
inspected  some  fashioning  of  garments  in  which  Mrs.  Luke  was 
engaged,  she  put  on  her  light  shawl  and  her  hat,  and  went  out 
into  the  fresh  air.  She  was  now  standing  in  the  main  street  of 
Eglosilyan ;  and  there  were  houses  right  down  below  her,  and 
houses  far  above  her,  but  a  stranger  would  have  been  puzzled  to 
say  where  this  odd  little  village  began  and  ended.  For  it  was 
built  in  a  straggling  fashion  on  the  sides  of  two  little  ravines ; 
and  the  small  stone  cottages  were  so  curiously  scattered  among 
the  trees,  and  the  plots  of  gardens  were  so  curiously  banked  up 
with  walls  that  were  smothered  in  Avild  flowers,  that  you  could 
only  decide  which  was  the  main  thoroughfare  by  the  presence 


JIM    CROW.  17 

there  of  two  gray -stone  chapels — one  the  Wesleyans'  Ebenczer,  the 
other  the  Bible  Christians'.  The  churches  were  far  away  on  the 
uplands,  where  they  were  seen  like  towers  along  the  bleak  cliffs 
by  the  passing  sailors.  But  perhaps  Eglosilyan  proper  ought  to 
be  considered  as  lying  down  in  the  hollow,  where  the  two  ravines 
converged.  For  here  was  the  chief  inn ;  and  here  was  the  overshot 
flour-mill ;  and  here  was  the  strange  little  harbor,  tortuous,  narrow, 
and  deep,  into  which  one  or  two  heavy  coasters  came  for  slate, 
bringing  Avith  them  timber  and  coal.  Eglosilyan  is  certainly  a 
picturesque  place ;  but  one's  difficulty  is  to  get  anything  like  a 
proper  view  of  it.  The  black  and  mighty  cliffs  at  the  mouth  of 
the  harbor,  where  the  Atlantic  seethes  and  boils  in  the  calmest 
Aveather,  the  beautiful  blue-green  Avater  under  the  rocks  and  along 
the  stone  quays,  the  quaint  bridge,  and  the  mill,  are  pleasant  to 
look  at ;  but  Avhere  is  Eglosilyan  ?  Then  if  you  go  up  one  of  the 
ravines,  and  get  among  the  old  houses,  with  their  tree-fuchsias 
and  hydrangeas  and  marigolds,  and  lumps  of  white  quartz  in  the 
quaint  little  gardens,  you  find  yourself  looking  doAvn  the  chimneys 
of  one  portion  of  Eglosilyan,  and  looking  up  to  the  doorsteps  of 
another — everyAvhere  a  confusion  of  hcAvn  rock  and  natural  terrace 
and  stone  walls,  and  bushes  and  hart's-tongue  fern.  Some  thought 
that  the  Trelyon  Arms  should  be  considered  the  natural  centre  of 
Eglosilyan ;  but  you  could  not  see  half  a  dozen  houses  from  any 
of  its  Avindows.  Others  would  have  given  the  post  of  honor  to 
the  National  School,  which  had  been  there  since  1843  ;  but  it  Avas 
up  in  a  by-street,  and  could  only  be  approached  by  a  flight  of 
steps  cut  in  the  slate  wall  that  banked  up  the  garden  in  front  of 
it.  Others,  for  reasons  which  need  not  be  mentioned,  held  that 
the  most  important  part  of  Eglosilyan  Avas  the  Napoleon  Hotel — 
a  humble  little  pot-house,  frequented  by  the  workers  in  the  slate- 
quarries,  who  came  there  to  discuss  the  affairs  of  the  nation  and 
hear  the  news.  Anyhow,  Eglosilyan  Avas  a  green,  bright,  rugged, 
and  picturesque  little  place,  oftentimes  Avet  Avith  the  Avcstcrn  rains, 
and  at  all  times  fresh  and  SAVcet  Avith  the  moist  breezes  from  the 
Atlantic. 

Miss  Wenna  went  neither  down  the  street  nor  up  the  street,  but 
took  a  rough  and  narrow  little  path  leading  by  some  of  the  cot- 
tages to  the  cliffs  overlooking  the  sea.  There  Avas  a  sound  of 
music  in  the  air ;  and  by  and  by  she  came  in  sight  of  an  elderly 
man,  who,  standing  in  an  odd  little  donkey-cart,  and  holding  the 


18  THREE    FEATHERS. 

reins  in  one  hand,  hold  with  the  other  a  cornopean,  which  he 
played  with  great  sldll.  No  one  in  Eglosilyan  could  tell  precisely 
whether  Michael  Jago  had  been  bugler  to  some  regiment,  or  had 
acquired  his  knowledge  of  the  cornopean  in  a  travelling  show ; 
but  everybody  liked  to  hear  the  cheerful  sound,  and  came  out  to 
the  cottage-door  to  welcome  him,  as  he  went  from  village  to  vil- 
lage with  his  cart,  whether  they  wanted  to  buy  suet  or  not.  And 
now,  as  Miss  Wenna  saw  him  approach,  he  was  playing  *'  The 
Girl  I  left  Behind  Me,"  and  as  there  was  no  one  about  to  listen  to 
him,  the  pathos  of  certain  parts,  and  the  florid  and  skilful  execu- 
tion of  others,  showed  that  Mr.  Jago  had  a  true  love  for  music, 
and  did  not  merely  use  it  to  advertise  his  wares. 

*'  Good-morning  to  you,  Mr.  Jago,"  said  Miss  "Wenna,  as  he 
came  up. 

"  'Marniii,  Miss  Rosewarne,"  he  said,  taking  down  his  cor- 
nopean. 

"  This  is  a  narrow  road  for  your  cart." 

*'  'Tain't  a  very  good  way  ;  but  bless  you,  nie  and  my  donkey 
we're  used  to  any  zart  of  a  road.  I  dii  believe  we  could  go  down 
to  the  bache,  down  the  face  of  Black  Cliff," 

"  Mr.  Jago,  I  want  to  say  something  to  you.  If  you  are  deal- 
ing with  old  Mother  Keam  to-day,  you'll  give  her  a  good  extra 
bit,  won't  you  ?  And  so  with  Mrs.  Geswetherick,  for  she  has  had 
no  letter  from  her  son  now  for  three  months.  And  this  will  pay 
you,  and  you'll  say  nothing  about  it,  you  know." 

She  put  the  coin  in  his  hand  —  it  was  an  arrangement  of  old 
standing  between  the  two, 

"Well,  yii  be  a  good  young  lady;  yaas,  yii  be,"  he  said,  as  he 
drove  on ;  and  then  she  heard  him  announcing  his  arrival  to  the 
people  of  Eglosilyan  by  playing,  in  a  very  elaborate  manner, 
"  Love's  Young  Dream." 

The  solitary  young  lady  who  was  taking  her  morning  walk  now 
left  this  rugged  road,  and  found  herself  on  the  bleak  and  high 
uplands  of  the  coast.  Over  there  Avas  the  sea  —  a  fair  summer 
sea;  and  down  into  the  southwest  stretched  a  tall  line  of  cliff, 
black,  precipitous,  and  jagged,  around  the  base  of  which  even  this 
blue  sea  was  churned  into  seething  masses  of  white.  Close  by 
was  a  church ;  and  the  very  gravestones  were  propped  up,  so  that 
they  should  withstand  the  force  of  the  gales  that  sweep  over  those 
windy  plains. 


JIM    CROW.  19 

She  went  across  the  uplands,  and  passed  down  to  a  narrow  neck 
of  rock,  which  connected  with  the  mainland  a  huge  projecting 
promontory,  on  the  summit  of  which  was  a  square  and  strongly- 
built  tower.  On  both  sides  of  this  ledge  of  rock  the  sea  from 
below  passed  into  narrow  channels,  and  roared  into  gigantic  caves ; 
but  when  once  you  had  ascended  again  to  the  summit  of  the  tall 
projecting  clifE,  the  distance  softened  the  sound  into  a  low  con- 
tinuous murmur,  and  the  motion  of  the  waves  beneath  you  was 
only  visible  in  the  presence  of  that  white  foam  where  the  black 
clijBEs  met  the  blue  sea. 

She  went  out  pretty  nearly  to  the  verge  of  the  cliS,  where  the 
close,  short,  wind-swept  sea-grass  gave  way  to  immense  and  ragged 
masses  of  rock,  descending  sheer  into  the  waves  below ;  and  here 
she  sat  down,  and  took  out  a  book,  and  began  to  read.  But  her 
thoughts  Avere  busier  than  her  eyes.  Her  attention  would  stray 
away  from  the  page  before  her  to  the  empty  blue  sea,  Avhere 
scarcely  a  sail  was  to  be  seen,  and  to  the  far  headlands  lying  un- 
der the  white  of  the  summer  sky.  One  of  these  headlands  was 
Tintagel ;  and  close  by  were  the  ruins  of  the  great  castle,  Avhere 
Uther  Pendragon  kept  his  state,  where  the  mystic  Arthur  was 
born,  where  the  brave  Sir  Tristram  went  to  see  his  true  love.  La 
Belle  Isoulde.  All  that  world  had  vanished  and  gone  into  silence ; 
could  anything  be  more  mute  and  still  than  these  bare  uplands 
out  at  the  end  of  the  world,  these  voiceless  cliffs,  and  the  empty 
circle  of  the  sea?  The  sun  was  hot  .on  the  rocks  beneath  her, 
where  the  pink  quartz  lay  incrusted  among  the  slate ;  but  there 
was  scarcely  the  hum  of  an  insect  to  break  the  stillness,  and  the 
only  sign  of  life  about  was  the  circling  of  one  or  two  sea-birds,  so 
far  below  her  that  their  cries  could  not  be  heard. 

"Yes,  it  was  a  long  time  ago,"  the  girl  was  thinking,  as  the 
book  lay  unheeded  on  her  knee.  "A  sort  of  mist  covers  it  now, 
and  the  knights  seem  great  and  tall  men  as  you  think  of  them 
riding  through  the  fog,  almost  in  silence.  But  then  there  .were 
the  brighter  days,  when  the  tournaments  Avere  held,  and  the  sun 
shone  out,  and  the  noble  ladies  wore  rich  colors,  and  every  one 
came  to  see  how  beautiful  they  were.  And  how  fine  it  must  have 
been  to  have  sat  there,  and  have  all  the  knights  ready  to  fight  for 
you,  and  glad  Avhen  you  gave  them  a  bit  of  ribbon  or  a  smile ! 
And  in  these  days,  too,  it  must  be  a  fine  thing  to  be  a  noble  lad}', 
and  beautiful  and  tall,  like  a  princess ;  and  to  go  among  the  poor 


20  THREE    FEATHERS. 

people,  puUinf;  everything  to  rights,  Lecause  you  liave  lots  of 
money,  and  because  the  rongliest  of  the  men  look  up  to  you,  and 
think  you  a  queen,  and  will  do  anything  you  ask.  What  a  happy 
life  a  grand  and  beautiful  lady  must  have,  Avhen  she  is  tall  and 
fair-haired,  and  sweet  in  her  manner ;  and  every  one  around  her  is 
pleased  to  serve  her,  and  she  can  do  a  kindness  by  merely  saying 
a  word  to  the  poor  people !  But  if  you  are  only  Jim  Crow ! 
There's  Mabyn,  now,  she  is  everybody's  favorite  because  she  is  so 
pretty  ;  and  whatever  she  does,  that  is  always  beautiful  and  grace- 
ful, because  she  is  so.  Father  never  calls  her  Jim  Crow.  And  I 
ought  to  be  jealous  of  her,  for  every  one  praises  her,  and  mere 
strangers  ask  for  her  photograph ;  and  Mr.  lloscorla  always  writes 
to  her,  and  Mr.  Trclyon  stuffed  those  squirrels  for  her,  though  he 
never  offered  to  stuff  squirrels  for  me.  But  I  cannot  be  jealous  of 
Mabyn — I  cannot  even  try.  She  looks  at  you  with  her  blue,  soft 
eyes,  and  you  fall  in  love  with  her ;  and  that  is  the  advantage  of 
being  handsome  and  beautiful,  for  you  can  please  every  one,  and 
make  every  one  like  you,  and  confer  favors  on  people  all  day  long. 
But  if  you  are  small  and  plain  and  dark — if  your  father  calls  you 
Jim  Crow — what  can  you  do  ?" 

These  despondent  fancies  did  not  seem  to  depress  her  much. 
The  gloom  of  them  was  certainly  not  visible  on  her  face,  nor  yet 
in  the  dark  eyes,  which  had  a  strange  and  winning  earnestness  in 
them.  She  pulled  a  bit  of  tormcntil  from  among  the  close  warm 
grass  on  the  rocks,  and  she  hummed  a  line  or  two  of  "  Wapping 
Old  Stairs."  Then  she  turned  to  her  book ;  but  by  and  by  her 
eyes  wandered  away  again,  and  she  fell  to  thinking. 

"  If  you  were  a  man,  now,"  she  was  silently  saying  to  herself, 
"  that  would  be  quite  different.  It  would  not  matter  how  ugly 
you  were  —  for  you  could  try  to  be  brave  or  clever,  or  a  splendid 
rider  or  something  of  that  kind  —  and  nobody  would  mind  how 
iigly  you  were.  But  it's  very  hard  to  be  a  woman  and  to  be  plain  ; 
you  feel  as  if  you  were  good  for  nothing,  and  had  no  business  to 
live.  They  say  that  you  should  cultivate  the  graces  of  the  mind ; 
but  it's  only  old  people  who  say  that ;  and  perhaps  you  may  not 
have  any  mind  to  cultivate.  IIow  much  better  it  would  be  to  be 
pretty  while  you  are  young,  and  leave  the  cultivation  of  the  mind 
for  after-years !  and  that  is  why  I  have  to  prevent  mother  from 
scolding  Mabyn  for  never  reading  a  book.  If  I  were  like  Mabyn, 
I  should  be  so  occupied  in  giving  people  the  pleasure  of  looking 


JIM    CROW.  21 

at  me  and  talking  to  mc  that  I  should  have  no  time  for  books. 
Mabyn  is  like  a  princess.  And  if  she  were  a  grand  lady,  instead 
of  being  only  an  innkeeper's  daughter,  what  a  lot  of  things  she 
could  do  about  Eglosilyan  !  She  could  go  and  persuade  Mr.  Ros- 
corla,  by  the  mere  sweetness  of  her  manner,  to  be  less  suspicious 
of  people,  and  less  bitter  in  talking;  she  could  go  up  to  Mrs. 
Trelyon,  and  bring  her  out  more  among  her  neighbors,  and  make 
the  house  pleasanter  for  her  son ;  she  could  go  to  my  father,  and 
beg  him  to  be  a  little  more  considerate  to  mother  Avhen  she  is 
angry ;  she  might  get  some  influence  over  Mr.  Trelyon  himself, 
and  make  him  less  of  a  petulant  boy.  Perhaps  Mabyn  may  do 
some  of  these  things  when  she  gets  a  little  older.  It  ought  to 
please  her  to  try,  at  all  events ;  and  who  can  withstand  her  when 
she  likes  to  be  affectionate  and  winning?  Not  Jim  Crow,  any- 
way." 

She  heaved  a  sigh,  not  a  very  dismal  one,  and  got  up  and  pre- 
pared to  go  home.     She  was  humming  carelessly  to  herself — 
' '  Your  Polly  has  never  been  false,  she  declares, 
Since  last  time  we  parted  at  Wapping  Old  Stairs  ; " 

— she  had  got  that  length  when  she  was  startled  into  silence  by 
the  sound  of  a  horse's  feet,  and,  turning  quickly  around,  found  Mr, 
Trelyon  galloping  up  the  steep  slope  that  reaches  across  to  the 
mainland.  It  was  no  pleasant  place  to  ride  across,  for  a  stumble 
of  the  animal's  foot  would  have  sent  horse  and  rider  down  into 
the  gulfs  below,  where  the  blue-grccn  sea  was  surging  in  amono- 
the  black  rocks. 

"  Oh !  how  could  you  be  so  foolish  as  to  do  that  ?"  she  cried. 
"  I  beg  of  you  to  come  down,  Mr.  Trelyon.     I  cannot — " 

"  Why,  Dick  is  as  sure-footed  as  I  am,"  said  the  lad,  his  hand- 
some face  flushing  with  the  ride  up  from  Eglosilyan.  "  I  thought 
I  should  find  you  here.  There's  no  end  of  a  row  going  on  at  the 
inn.  Miss  Wenna,  and  that's  a  fact.  I  fancied  I'd  better  come  and 
tell  you  ;  for  there's  no  one  can  put  things  straight  like  you,  you 
know." 

A  quarrel  between  her  father  and  her  mother — it  was  of  no  rare 
occurrence,  and  she  was  not  much  surprised. 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said.  "  It  is  very  kind  of  you 
to  have  taken  the  trouble.     I  will  go  down  at  once." 

But  she  was  looking  rather  anxiously  at  him,  as  he  turned  around 
his  horse. 


22  THRKE    FEATHERS. 

"  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  quickly,  "  would  you  oblige  me  by 
getting  down  and  leading  your  horse  across  until  you  reach  the 
path  ?" 

He  was  out  of  the  saddle  in  a  moment. 

"I  will  walk  down  with  you  to  Eglosilyan,  if  you  like,"  he  said, 
carelessly.     "  You  often  come  up  here,  don't  you  ?" 

"  Nearly  every  day.     I  always  take  a  Avalk  in  the  forenoon." 

"  Does  Mabyn  ever  go  with  you  ?"  Ilis  companion  noticed  that 
he  always  addressed  her  as  Miss  AVcnna,  whereas  her  sister  was 
simply  Mabyn. 

"  Not  often." 

"  I  wonder  she  doesn't  ride — I  am  sure  she  would  look  well  on 
horseback — don't  you  think  so  ?" 

"  Mabyn  would  look  well  anywhere,"  said  the  eldest  sister,  with 
a  smile. 

"  If  she  would  like  to  try  a  lady's  saddle  on  your  father's  cob, 
I  would  send  you  one  down  from  the  Hall,"  the  lad  said.  *'  My 
mother  never  rides  now.  But  perhaps  I'd  better  speak  to  your 
father  about  it.  Oh  !  by  the  way,  he  told  me  a  capital  story  this 
morning  that  he  heard  in  coming  from  Plymouth  to  Launceston 
in  the  train.  Two  farmers  belonging  to  Launceston  had  got  into 
a  carriage  the  day  before,  and  found  in  it  a  parson,  against  whom 
they  had  a  grudge.  He  didn't  know  either  of  them  by  sight ; 
and  so  they  pretended  to  be  strangers,  and  sat  down  opposite 
each  other.  One  of  them  put  up  the  window ;  the  other  put  it 
down  with  a  bang.  The  first  drew  it  up  again,  and  said, '  I  de- 
sire you  to  leave  the  window  alone,  sir !'  The  other  said, '  I  mean 
to  have  that  window  down,  and  if  you  touch  it  again  I  will  throw 
you  out  of  it.'  Meanwhile  the  parson  at  the  other  end  of  the 
carriage,  who  was  a  little  fellow  and  rather  timid,  had  got  into  an 
agony  of  fright ;  and  at  last,  when  the  two  men  seemed  about  to 
seize  each  other  by  the  throat,  he  called  out, '  For  Heaven's  sake, 
gentlemen,  do  not  quarrel !  Sir,  I  beg  of  you,  I  implore  you,  as  a 
clergyman  I  entreat  you,  to  put  up  that  knife !'  And  then,  of 
course,  they  both  turned  upon  him  like  tigers,  and  slanged  him, 
and  declared  they  would  break  liis  back  over  the  same  window. 
Fancy  the  fright  he  was  in !" 

The  boy  laughed  merrily. 

"  Do  you  think  that  was  a  good  joke  ?"  the  girl  beside  him 
asked,  quietly. 


JIM    CROW.  23 

He  seemed  a  little  embarrassed. 

"  Do  you  think  it  was  a  very  manly  and  courageous  thing  for 
two  big  farmers  to  frighten  a  small  and  timid  clergyman  ?  I 
think  it  was  rather  mean  and  cowardly.  I  sec  no  joke  in  it  at 
all." 

His  face  grew  more  and  more  red. 

"  I  don't  suppose  they  meant  any  harm,"  he  said,  curtly ;  "  but 
you  know  we  can't  all  be  squaring  every  word  and  look  by  the 
Prayer-book.  And  I  suppose  the  parson  himself,  if  he  had 
known,  would  not  have  been  so  fearfully  serious  but  that  he 
could  have  taken  a  joke  like  any  one  else.  By  the  way,  this  is 
the  nearest  road  to  Trevenna,  isn't  it  ?  I  have  got  to  ride  over 
there  before  the  afternoon.  Miss  Kosewarne ;  so  I  shall  bid  you 
good-day." 

He  got  on  horseback  again,  and  took  off  his  cap  to  her,  and 
rode  away. 

"  Good-day,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  meekly. 

And  so  she  walked  down  to  the  inn  by  herself,  and  was  inclined 
to  reproach  herself  for  being  so  very  serious,  and  for  being  unable 
to  understand  a  joke  like  any  one  else.  Yet  she  was  not  unhappy 
about  it.  It  was  a  pity  if  Mr.  Trelyon  were  annoyed  with  her ; 
but,  then,  she  had  long  ago  taught  herself  to  believe  that  she 
could  not  easily  please  people,  as  Mabyn  could;  and  she  cheer- 
fully accepted  the  fact.  Sometimes,  it  is  true,  she  indulged  in 
idle  dreams  of  what  she  might  do  if  she  were  beautiful  and  rich 
and  noble ;  but  she  soon  laughed  herself  out  of  these  foolish  fan- 
cies, and  they  left  no  sting  of  regret  behind  them.  At  this  mo- 
ment, as  she  walked  down  to  Eglosilyan,  with  the  tune  of  "  Wap- 
ping  Old  Stairs  "  rocking  itself  to  sleep  in  her  head,  and  with  her 
face  brightened  by  her  brisk  walk,  there  was  neither  disappoint- 
ment nor  envy  nor  ambition  in  her  mind.  Not  for  her,  indeed, 
were  any  of  those  furious  passions  that  shake  and  set  afire  the 
lives  of  men  and  women :  her  lot  was  the  calm  and  placid  lot  of 
the  unregarded,  and  with  it  she  was  well  content. 


24  THREE    FEATHERS. 


CHAPTER  III. 

RES    ANGUST.E    DOMI. 

When  George  Rosewarnc,  tlic  father  of  this  Miss  Wenna,  lived 
in  Eastern  Devonshire,  many  folks  thought  him  a  fortunate  man. 
lie  was  the  land-steward  of  a  large  estate,  the  owner  of  which 
lived  in  Paris,  so  that  Rosewarne  was  practically  his  own  master ; 
he  had  a  young  and  pretty  wife,  desperately  fond  of  him  ;  he  had 
a  couple  of  children  and  a  comfortable  home.  As  for  himself,  he 
was  a  tall,  reddish -bearded,  manly -looking  fellow:  the  country 
folks  called  him  Handsome  George  as  they  saw  hiiu  riding  his 
rounds  of  a  morning;  and  they  thought  it  a  pity  Mrs.  Rosewarne 
was  so  often  poorly,  for  she  and  her  husband  looked  well  togeth- 
er when  they  walked  to  church. 

Handsome  George  did  not  seem  much  troubled  by  his  wife's 
various  ailments;  he  would  only  give  the  curtest  answer  when 
asked  about  her  health.  Yet  he  was  not  in  any  distinct  way  a 
bad  husband.  He  was  a  man  vaguely  unwilling  to  act  wrongly, 
but  weak  in  staving  off  temptation ;  there  was  a  sort  of  indolent 
selfishness  about  him  of  which  he  was  scarcely  aware ;  and  to 
indulge  this  selfishness  he  Avas  capable  of  a  good  deal  of  petty 
deceit  and  even  treachery  of  a  sort.  It  was  not  these  failings, 
however,  that  made  the  relations  of  husband  and  wife  not  very 
satisfactory.  Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  passionately  fond  of  her  hus- 
band, and  proportionately  jealous  of  him.  She  Avas  a  Avoman  of 
impulsive  imaginati(m  and  of  sympathetic  nature,  clever,  bright, 
and/ fanciful,  av ell-read  and  Avell-taught,  and  altogether  made  of 
finer  stuff  than  Handsome  George.  But  this  passion  of  jealousy 
altogether  overmastered  her  reason.  "When  she  did  try  to  con- 
vince herself  that  she  Avas  in  the  Avrong,  the  result  Avas  merely 
that  she  resolved  to  keep  silence ;  but  this  forcible  repression  of 
her  suspicions  Avas  Averse  in  its  effects  than  the  open  avowal  of 
them.  When  the  explosion  came,  George  RoscAA'arnc  was  mostly 
anxious  to  avoid  it.  He  did  not  seek  to  set  matters  straight.' 
He  Avould  get  into  a  peevish  temper  for  a  fcAV  minutes,  and  tell 


RES    ANGUST^    DOMI.  25 

her  she  was  a  fool ;  then  he  would  go  out  for  the  rest  of  the 
day,  and  come  home  sulky  in  the  evening.  By  this  time  she 
was  generally  in  a  penitent  mood ;  and  there  is  nothing  an  indo- 
lent, sulky  person  likes  so  much  as  to  be  coaxed  and  caressed, 
with  tears  of  repentance  and  affectionate  promises,  into  a  good 
temper  again.  There  were  too  many  of  such  scenes  in  George 
Rosewarne's  home. 

Mrs.  Rosewarne  may  have  been  wrong,  but  people  began  to 
talk.  For  there  had  come  to  live  at  the  Hall  a  certain  Mrs.  Shir- 
ley, who  had  lately  returned  from  India,  and  was  the  sister-in-law, 
or  some  such  relation,  of  George  Rosewarne's  master.  She  was  a 
good-looking  woman  of  forty,  fresh-colored  and  free-spoken,  a  lit- 
tle too  fond  of  brandy-and-water,  folks  said,  and  a  good  deal  too 
fond  of  the  handsome  steward,  who  now  spent  most  of  his  time 
up  at  the  big  house.  They  said  she  was  a  grass-widow.  They 
said  there  were  reasons  why  her  relations  wished  her  to  be  buried 
down  there  in  the  country,  where  she  received  no  company,  and 
made  no  efforts  to  get  acquainted  with  the  people  who  had  called 
on  her  and  left  their  cards.  And  amid  all  this  gossip  the  name  of 
George  Rosewarne  too  frequently  turned  up ;  and  there  were  nods 
and  winks  when  Mrs.  Shirley  and  the  steward  were  seen  to  be  rid- 
ing about  the  country  from  day  to  day,  presumably  not  always 
conversing  about  the  property. 

The  blow  fell  at  last,  and  that  in  a  fashion  that  need  not  be  de- 
scribed here.  There  was  a  wild  scene  between  two  angry  women. 
A  few  days  after  a  sallow-complexioned,  white-haired  old  gentle- 
man arrived  from  Paris,  and  Avas  confronted  by  a  red-faced  fury, 
who  gloried  in  her  infatuation  and  disgrace,  and  dared  him  to  in- 
terfere. Then  there  was  a  sort  of  conference  of  relatives  held  in 
the  house  which  she  still  inhabited.  The  result  of  all  this,  so  far 
as  the  Rosewarnes  were  concerned,  was  simply  that  the  relatives 
of  the  woman,  to  hush  the  matter  up  and  prevent  further  scandal, 
offered  to  purchase  for  George  Rosewarne  the  "  Trelyon  Arms  " 
at  Eglosilyan,  on  condition  that  he  should  immediately,  with  his 
family,  betake  himself  to  that  remote  corner  of  the  world,  and 
undertake  to  hold  no  further  communication  of  any  sort  Avith  the 
woman  who  still  (with  some  flash  of  rhetoric,  Avhich  probably 
meant  nothing)  swore  that  she  Avould  follow  him  to  the  end  of 
the  earth.  George  Rosewarne  was  pleased  with  the  offer,  and 
accepted  it.     He  might  have  found  some  difficulty  in  discov- 

B 


2G  THREE    FEATUERS. 

ering  another  stewardship  after  the  events  that  bad  just  oc- 
curred. On  tlie  otlier  liand,  the  "  Trelyon  Arms  "  at  Eglosilyan 
Avas  not  a  mere  public-house.  It  was  an  old-fashioned,  quaint, 
and  comfortable  inn,  practically  shut  up  during  the  winter,  and 
in  the  summer  made  the  headquarters  of  a  few  families  who  had 
discovered  it,  and  who  went  there  as  regularly  as  the  warm  weath- 
er came  round.  A  few  antiquarian  folks,  too,  and  a  stray  geolo- 
gist or  so,  generally  made  up  the  family  party  that  sat  down  to 
dinner  every  evening  in  the  big  dining-room ;  and  who  that  ever 
made  one  of  the  odd  circle  meeting  in  this  strange  and  out-of-the- 
way  place  ever  failed  to  return  to  it  when  the  winter  had  finally 
cleared  away  and  the  Atlantic  got  blue  again  ? 

George  Rosewarne  went  down  to  see  about  it.  He  found  in 
the  inn  an  efficient  housekeeper,  who  was  thoroughly  mistress  of 
her  duties  and  of  the  servants,  so  that  he  should  have  no  great 
trouble  about  it,  even  though  his  wife  were  too  ill  to  help.  As 
for  his  daughters,  he  resolved  that  they  should  have  nothing  what- 
soever to  do  with  the  inn ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  be  trained  in  all 
the  ordinary  accomplishments  of  young  ladies ;  for  he  was  rather 
a  proud  man.  And  so  the  Rosewarncs  w'cre  drafted  down  to  the 
Cornish  coast ;  and  as  Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  of  Cornish  birth,  and 
as  she  had  given  both  her  daughters  Cornish  names,  they  gradual- 
ly ceased  to  be  regarded  as  strangers.  They  made  many  acquaint- 
ances and  friends.  Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  a  bright,  rapid,  and  play- 
ful talker ;  a  woman  of  considerable  reading  and  intelligence,  and 
a  sympathetic  listener.  Her  husband  knew  all  about  horses  and 
dogs  and  farming,  and  what  not ;  so  that  young  Harry  Trelyon, 
for  example,  was  in  the  habit  of  consulting  him  almost  daily. 

They  had  a  little  parlor  abutting  on  what  once  had  been  a  bar, 
and  here  one  or  two  friends  sometimes  dropped  in  to  have  a  chat. 
There  was  a  bar  no  longer.  The  business  of  the  inn  was  conduct- 
ed overhead,  and  was  exclusively  of  the  nature  described  above. 
The  pot-house  of  Eglosilyan  was  the  Napoleon  Hotel,  a  dilapidated 
place,  lialf-way  up  one  of  the  steep  streets. 

But  in  leaving  Devonshire  for  Cornwall  the  Rosewarncs  had 
carried  with  them  a  fatal  inheritance.  They  could  not  leave  be- 
hind them  the  memory  of  the  circumstances  that  had  caused  their 
flight ;  and  ever  and  anon,  as  something  occurred  to  provoke  her 
suspicions,  Mrs.  Rosewarne  would  break  out  again  into  a  passion 
of  jealousy,  and  demand  explanations  and  reassurances,  which  her 


RES    ANGUST.E   DOMI.  27 

husband  half  -  indolently  and  half -sulkily  refused.  There  was 
but  one  hand  then — one  voice  that  could  still  the  raging  Avaters. 
Wenna  Rosewarne  knew  nothing  of  that  Devonshire  story,  any 
more  than  her  sister  or  the  neighbors  did ;  but  she  saw  that  her 
mother  had  defects  of  temper,  that  she  was  irritable,  unreasonable, 
and  suspicious,  and  she  saw  that  her  father  was  inconsiderately 
indifferent  and  harsh.  It  was  a  hard  task  to  reconcile  these  two ; 
but  the  girl  had  all  the  patience  of  a  born  peacemaker ;  and  pa- 
tience is  the  more  necessary  to  the  settlement  of  such  a  dispute, 
in  that  it  is  generally  impossible  for  any  human  being,  outside 
the  two  who  are  quarrelling,  to  discover  any  ground  for  the  quar- 
rel. 

*'  Why,  what's  the  matter,  mother  ?"  she  said  on  this  occasion, 
taking  off  her  hat  and  shawl  as  if  she  had  heard  nothing  about  it. 
"  I  do  think  you  have  been  crying." 

The  pretty,  pale  woman,  with  the  large  black  eyes  and  smooth- 
ly brushed  dark  hair,  threw  a  volume  on  the  table,  and  said,  with 
a  sort  of  half-hysterical  laugh,  "  How  stupid  it  is,  Wenna,  to  cry 
over  the  misfortunes  of  people  in  books,  isn't  it  ?" 

That  pretence  would  not  have  deceived  Miss  Wenna  in  any 
case,  but  now  she  was  to  receive  other  testimony  to  the  truth  of 
Mr.  Trelyon's  report.  There  was  seated  at  the  window  of  the 
room  a  tall  and  strikingly  handsome  young  girl  of  sixteen,  whose 
almost  perfect  profile  was  clearly  seen  against  the  light.  Just  at 
this  moment  she  rose  and  stepped  across  the  room  to  the  door, 
and  as  she  went  by  she  said,  Avith  just  a  trace  of  contemptuous 
indifference  on  the  proud  and  beautiful  face,  "  It  is  only  another 
quarrel,  Wenna." 

"  Mother,"  said  the  girl,  when  her  sister  had  gone,  ''  tell  me 
what  it  is  about.    What  have  you  said  to  father  ?    Wliere  is  he  ?" 

There  was  an  air  of  quiet  decision  about  her  that  did  not  de- 
tract from  the  sympathy  visible  in  her  face.  Mrs.  Rosewarne  be- 
gan to  cry  again.  Then  she  took  her  daughter's  hand,  and  made 
her  sit  down  by  her,  and  told  her  all  her  troubles.  What  was 
the  girl  to  make  of  it?  It  was  the  old  story  of  suspicion  and 
challenging  and  sulky  denial,  and  then  hot  words  and  anger. 
She  could  make  out,  at  least,  that  her  mother  had  first  been  made 
anxious  about  something  he  had  inadvertently  said  about  his  visit 
to  Plymouth  on  the  previous  two  days.  In  reply  to  her  questions 
he  had  grown  peevishly  vague,  and  had  then  spoken  in  bravado 


28  THREE    FEATHERS. 

of  the  pleasant  evening  he  had  spent  at  the  theatre.  Wenna 
reasoned  with  lier  mother,  and  pleaded  with  her,  and  at  last  exer- 
cised a  little  authority  over  her ;  at  the  end  of  which  she  agreed 
that,  if  her  husband  would  tell  her  with  whom  he  had  been  to 
the  theatre,  she  would  be  satisfied,  would  speak  no  more  on  the 
subject,  and  would  even  formally  beg  his  forgiveness. 

"  Because,  mother,  I  have  something  to  tell  you,"  the  daughter 
said,  "  when  you  are  all  quite  reconciled." 

"  Was  it  in  the  letter  you  read  just  now  ?" 

"  Yes,  mother." 

The  girl  still  held  the  letter  in  her  hand.  It  was  lying  on  the 
table  when  she  came  in,  but  she  had  not  opened  it  and  glanced 
over  the  contents  until  she  saw  that  her  mother  was  yielding  to 
her  prayers. 

"  It  is  from  Mr.  Roscorla,  AVenna,"  the  mother  said ;  and  now 
she  saw,  as  she  might  have  seen  before,  that  her  daughter  was  a 
little  paler  than  usual,  and  somewhat  agitated. 

"  Yes,  mother." 

"  "What  is  it,  then  ?     You  look  frightened." 

"  I  must  settle  this  matter  first,"  said  the  girl,  calmly  ;  and  then 
she  folded  up  the  letter,  and,  still  holding  it  in  her  hand,  went  off 
to  find  her  father. 

George  Rosewarne,  seeking  calm  after  the  storm,  Avas  seated  on 
a  large  and  curiously  carved  bench  of  Spanish  oak  placed  by  the 
door  of  the  inn.  lie  was  smoking  his  pipe,  and  lazily  looking  at 
some  pigeons  that  were  flying  about  the  mill  and  occasionally 
alighting  on  tlie  roof.  In  the  calm  of  the  midsummer's  day  there 
was  no  sound  but  the  incessant  throbbing  of  the  big  wheel  over 
there  and  the  plash  of  the  water. 

"  Now,  don't  bother  me,  AVenna,"  he  said,  the  moment  he  saw 
her  approach.  "  I  know  you've  come  to  make  a  fuss.  You  mind 
your  own  business." 

"  Motlier  is  very  sorry — "  the  girl  was  beginning  in  a  meek  way, 
when  he  interrupted  her  rudely. 

"  I  tell  you  to  mind  your  own  business.  I  must  have  an  end 
of  this.     I  have  stood  it  long  enough.     Do  you  hear?" 

But  she  did  not  go  away.  She  stood  there,  with  her  quiet, 
patient  face,  not  heeding  his  angry  looks. 

"  Father,  don't  be  hard  on  lier.  She  is  very  sorry.  She  is  will- 
ing to  beg  your  pardon  if  you  will  only  tell  her  who  went  to  the 


RES    ANGUST.E    DOMI.  29 

theatre  with  you  at  Plymouth,  and  relieve  her  from  this  anxiety. 
This  is  all.     Father,  who  went  to  the  theatre  with  you  ?" 

"  Oh,  go  away !"  he  said,  relapsing  into  a  sulky  condition. 
"  You're  growing  up  to  be  just  such  another  as  your  mother." 

"I  cannot  wish  for  anything  better,"  the  girl  said,  mildly. 
"  She  is  a  good  woman,  and  she  loves  you  dearly." 

"  Why,"  he  said,  turning  suddenly  upon  her,  and  speaking  in 
an  injured  way,  "  no  one  went  with  me  to  the  theatre  at  Plymouth ! 
Did  I  say  that  anybody  did  ?  Surely  a  man  must  do  something 
to  spend  the  evening  if  he  is  by  himself  in  a  strange  town." 

Wenna  put  her  hand  on  her  father's  shoulder,  and  said,  "  Da, 
why  didn't  you  take  me  to  Plymouth  ?'' 

"  Well,  I  will  next  time.  You're  a  good  lass,"  he  said,  still  in 
the  same  sulky  way. 

"  Now  come  in  and  make  it  up  with  mother.  She  is  anxious 
to  make  it  up." 

He  looked  at  his  pipe. 

"  In  a  few  minutes,  Wenna.     W^hen  I  finish  my  pipe." 

"  She  is  waiting  now,"  said  the  girl,  quietly  ;  and  with  that  her 
father  burst  into  a  loud  laugh,  and  got  up  and  shrugged  his 
shoulders ;  and  then,  taking  his  daughter  by  the  ear,  and  saying 
that  she  was  a  sly  little  cat,  he  walked  into  the  house  and  into  the 
room  Avhere  his  wife  awaited  him. 

Meanwhile  Wenna  Rosewarne  had  stolen  ofi  to  her  own  little 
room,  and  there  she  sat  down  at  the  window,  and  with  trembling 
fingers  took  out  a  letter  and  began  to  read  it.  It  was  certainly  a 
document  of  some  length,  consisting,  indeed,  of  four  large  pages 
of  blue  paper,  covered  with  a  small,  neat,  and  precise  handwrit- 
ing. She  had  not  got  on  very  far  with  it,  when  the  door  of  the 
room  was  opened,  and  Mrs.  Rosewarne  appeared,  the  pale  face 
and  large  dark  eyes  being  now  filled  with  a  radiant  pleasure.  Her 
husband  had  said  something  friendly  to  her ;  and  the  quick,  imag- 
inative nature  had  leaped  to  the  conclusion  that  all  was  right  again, 
and  that  there  were  to  be  no  more  needless  quarrels. 

"And  now,  Wenna,"  she  said,  sitting  down  by  the  girl,  "  what 
is  it  all  about  ?  and  why  did  you  look  so  frightened  a  few  minutes 
ago  ?" 

"  Oh,  mother !"  the  girl  said,  "  this  is  a  letter  from  Mr.  Roscorla, 
and  he  wants  me  to  marry  him." 

"  Mr.  Roscorla !"  cried  the  mother,  in  blank  amazement.    "  Who 


30  THREE    FEATHERS. 

ever  dreamed  of  such  a  thing ?  and  what  do  you  say,  Wenna ? 
What  do  you  think  ?  What  answer  will  you  send  him  ?  Dear 
me,  to  think  of  Mr.  Roscorla  taking  a  wife,  and  wanting  to  have 
our  AVenna,  too !" 

She  began  to  tell  her  mother  something  of  the  letter,  reading 
it  carefully  to  herself,  and  then  repeating  aloud  some  brief  sug- 
gestion of  what  slic  had  read,  to  let  her  mother  know  what  were 
the  arguments  that  Mr.  Roscorla  employed.  And  it  wa-s,  on  the 
whole,  an  argumentative  letter,  and  much  more  calm  and  lucid  and 
reasonable  than  most  letters  are  which  contain  offers  of  marriage. 
Mr.  Roscorla  wrote  thus : 

"Basset  Cottage,  Eglosiltan,  July  18, 18 — . 
"  My  dear  Miss  Wenxa, — 

"  I  fear  that  this  letter  may  surprise  you,  but  I  hope  you  will 
read  it  through  without  alarm  or  indignation,  and  deal  fairly  and 
kindly  with  what  it  has  to  say.  Perhaps  you  will  think,  when 
you  have  read  it,  that  I  ought  to  have  come  to  you  and  said  the 
things  that  it  says.  But  I  wish  to  put  these  things  before  you  in 
as  simple  a  manner  as  I  can,  which  is  best  done  by  writing ;  and 
a  letter  will  have  this  advantage  that  you  can  recur  to  it  at  any 
moment,  if  there  is  some  point  on  wliich  you  are  in  doubt. 

"  The  object,  then,  of  this  letter  is  to  ask  you  to  become  my 
wife,  and  to  put  before  you  a  few  considerations  which  I  liope  will 
have  some  little  influence  in  determining  your  answer.  You  will 
be  surprised,  no  doubt ;  for  though  you  must  be  well  aware  that 
I  could  perceive  the  graces  of  your  character — the  gentleness  and 
charity  of  heart  and  modesty  of  demeanor  that  have  endeared  you 
to  the  whole  of  the  people  among  whom  you  live — you  may  fairly 
say  that  I  never  betrayed  my  admiration  of  you  in  word  or  deed; 
and  that  is  true.  I  cannot  precisely  tell  you  why  I  should  be 
more  distant  in  manner  towards  her  wliom  I  preferred  to  all  the 
world  than  to  her  immediate  friends  and  associates  for  whom  I 
cared  much  less ;  but  such  is  the  fact.  I  could  talk  and  joke  and 
spend  a  pleasant  afternoon  in  the  society  of  your  sister  Mabyn, 
for  example ;  I  could  ask  her  to  accept  a  present  from  me ;  I  could 
write  letters  to  lier  when  I  was  in  London ;  but  with  you  all  that 
was  different.  Perhaps  it  is  because  you  are  so  fine  and  shy,  be- 
cause tliere  is  so  much  sensitiveness  in  your  look,  that  I  have 
almost  been  afraid  to  go  near  you,  lest  you  should  shrink  from 


RES    ANGUST.E    DOMI.  81 

some  rude  intimation  of  that  wliicli  I  now  endeavor  to  break  to 
you  gently — my  wish  and  earnest  hope  that  you  may  become  my 
wife.  I  trust  I  have  so  far  explained  what  perhaps  you  may  have 
considered  coldness  on  my  part. 

"  I  am  a  good  deal  older  than  you  are ;  and  I  cannot  pretend 
to  offer  you  that  fervid  passion  which,  to  the  imagination  of  the 
young,  seems  the  only  thing  worth  living  for,  and  one  of  the  neces- 
sary conditions  of  marriage.  On  the  other  hand,  I  cannot  expect 
the  manifestation  of  any  such  passion  on  your  side,  even  if  I  had 
any  wish  for  it.  But  on  this  point  I  should  like  to  make  a  few 
observations  which  I  hope  will  convince  you  that  my  proposal  is 
not  so  unreasonable  as  it  may  have  seemed  at  first  sight.  When 
I  look  over  the  list  of  all  my  friends  who  have  married,  whom  do 
I  find  to  be  living  the  happiest  life  ?  Not  they  who  as  boy  and 
girl  were  carried  away  by  a  romantic  idealism  which  seldom  lasts 
beyond  a  few  Aveeks  after  marriage,  but  those  who  had  wisely 
chosen  partners  fitted  to  become  their  constant  and  affectionate 
friends.  It  is  this  possibility  of  friendship,  indeed,  which  is  the 
very  basis  of  a  happy  marriage.  The  romance  and  passion  of  love 
soon  depart ;  then  the  man  and  woman  find  themselves  living  in 
the  same  house,  dependent  on  each  other's  character,  intelligence, 
and  disposition,  and  bound  by  inexorable  ties.  If,  in  these  cir- 
cumstances, they  can  be  good  friends,  it  is  well  with  them.  If 
they  admire  each  other's  thoughts  and  feelings,  if  they  arc  gener- 
ously considerate  towards  each  other's  weaknesses,  if  they  have 
pleasure  in  each  other's  society — if,  in  short,  they  find  themselves 
bound  to  each  other  by  the  ties  of  a  true  and  disinterested  friend- 
ship, the  world  has  been  good  to  them.  I  say  nothing  against 
that  period  of  passion  which,  in  some  rare  and  fortunate  instances, 
precedes  this  infinitely  longer  period  of  friendship.  You  would 
accuse  me  of  the  envy  of  an  elderly  man  if  I  denied  that  it  has  its 
romantic  aspects.  But  how  very  temporary  these  are  !  IIow 
dangerous  they  are  too !  The  passion  of  a  young  man,  as  I  have 
seen  it  displayed  in  a  thousand  instances,  is  not  a  thing  to  be  de- 
sired. It  is  cruel  in  its  jealousy,  exacting  in  its  demands,  heedless 
in  its  impetuosity ;  and  when  it  has  burned  itself  out  —  when 
nothing  remains  but  ashes  and  an  empty  fireplace — who  is  to  say 
that  the  capacity  for  a  firm  and  lasting  friendship  Avill  survive  ? 
But  perhaps  you  fancy  that  this  passionate  love  may  last  forever. 
Will  you  forgive  me,  dear  Miss  Wcnna,  if  I  say  that  that  is  the 


32  THREE    FEATHERS. 

dream  of  a  girl  ?  In  such  rare  cases  as  I  have  seen,  this  perpetual 
ardor  of  love  was  anything  but  a  happiness  to  those  concerned. 
The  freaks  of  jealousy  on  the  part  of  a  boy  and  girl  who  think 
of  getting  married  are  but  occasions  for  the  making  of  quarrels 
and  the  delight  of  reconciliation  ;  but  a  life-long  jealousy  involves 
a  torture  to  both  husband  and  wife  to  which  death  would  be  pref- 
erable." 

At  this  point  "Wenna's  cheeks  burned  red ;  she  was  silent  for  a 
time,  and  her  mother  wondered  why  she  skipped  so  long  a  passage 
without  saying  a  word. 

"  I  have  used  all  the  opportunities  within  my  reach,"  the  letter 
continued,  "  to  form  a  judgment  of  your  character ;  I  know  some- 
thing of  my  own ;  and  I  sincerely  believe  that  we  could  live  a 
happy  and  pleasant  life  together.  It  is  a  great  sacrifice  I  ask  of 
you,  I  own ;  but  you  would  not  find  me  slow  to  repay  you  in 
gratitude.  I  am  almost  alone  in  the  world ;  the  few  relatives  I 
have  I  never  see ;  I  have  scarcely  a  friend  or  acquaintance  except 
those  I  meet  under  your  father's  hospitable  roof.  I  cannot  conceal 
from  myself  that  I  should  be  by  far  the  greater  gainer  by  such  a 
marriage :  I  should  secure  for  myself  a  pleasant,  intelligent,  and 
amiable  companion,  who  would  brighten  my  home,  and  in  time,  I 
doubt  not,  soften  and  sweeten  those  views  of  the  world  that  are 
naturally  formed  by  a  middle-aged  man  living  alone  and  in  privacy. 
What  can  I  offer  you  in  return  ?  Not  much  —  except  the  oppor- 
tunity of  adding  one  more  to  the  many  good  deeds  that  seem  to 
be  the  chief  occupation  of  your  life.  And  I  should  be  glad  if  you 
would  let  me  help  you  in  that  way,  and  give  you  the  aid  of  ad- 
vice which  might,  perhaps,  temper  your  generosity  and  apply  it 
to  its  best  uses.  You  are  aware  that  I  have  no  occupation — and 
scarcely  a  hobby ;  I  should  make  it  my  occupation,  my  constant 
endeavor  and  pleasure,  to  win  and  secure  your  affection  —  to 
make  the  ordinary  little  cares  and  duties  of  life,  in  which  you  take 
so  great  an  interest,  smooth  and  pleasant  to  you.  In  short,  I 
should  try  to  make  you  happy ;  not  in  any  frantic  and  Avild  way, 
but  by  the  exercise  of  a  care  and  affection  and  guardianship  by 
Avhich  I  hope  we  should  both  profit.  May  I  point  out,  also,  that, 
as  a  married  woman,  you  would  have  much  more  influence  among 
the  poorer  families  in  the  village  who  take  up  so  much  of  your 
attention  ;  and  you  would  be  removed,  too,  if  I  may  mention  such 
a  thing,  from  certain  unhappy  circumstances  which  I  fear  trouble 


RES    ANGUST^    DOMI.  33 

you  greatly  at  times.  But  perhaps  I  should  not  have  referred  to 
this ;  I  would  rather  seek  to  press  my  claim  on  the  ground  of  the 
happiness  you  would  thereby  confer  on  others,  which  I  know  to 
he  your  chief  object  in  life. 

"  I  have  not  said  half  what  I  intended  to  say ;  but  I  must  not 
fatigue  you.  Perhaps  you  will  give  me  an  opportunity  of  telling 
you  personally  what  I  think  of  yourself,  for  I  cannot  bring  myself 
to  write  it  in  bald  words  ;  and  if  you  should  be  in  doubt,  give  me 
the  benefit  of  the  doubt,  and  let  me  explain.  I  do  not  ask  you 
for  a  hurried  answer ;  but  I  should  be  glad  if,  out  of  the  kindness 
of  all  your  ways,  you  would  send  me  one  line  soon,  merely  to  say 
that  I  have  not  offended  you. 

"  I  am,  my  dear  Miss  Rosewarne, 

"  Yours  most  sincerely, 

"Richard  Roscorla." 

"  Oh !  what  must  I  do,  mother  ?"  the  girl  cried.  "  Is  it  all  true 
that  he  says  ?" 

"  My  dear  child,  there  is  a  great  deal  of  common-sense  in  the 
letter,"  the  mother  replied,  calmly ;  "  but  you  needn't  decide  all 
at  once.  Take  plenty  of  time.  I  suppose  you  don't  dislike  Mr. 
Roscorla?" 

"  Oh,  not  at  all  —  not  at  all !     But  then,  to  marry  him — !" 

"  If  you  don't  wish  to  marry  him,  no  harm  is  done,"  Mrs.  Rose- 
warne said.  "  I  cannot  advise  you,  Wenna.  Your  own  feelings 
must  settle  the  question.  But  you  ought  to  be  very  proud  of  the  • 
offer,  anyway ;  and  you  must  thank  him  properly ;  for  Mr.  Ros- 
corla is  a  gentleman,  although  he  is  not  as  rich  as  his  relations ; 
and  it  is  a  great  honor  he  has  done  you.  Of  course,  Wenna,  if 
you  were  in  love  with  any  one  —  if  there  was  any  young  man 
about  here  whom  you  would  like  to  marry  —  there  would  be  no 
need  for  you  to  be  frightened  about  what  Mr.  Roscorla  says  of 
young  folks  being  in  love.  It  is  a  trying  time,  to  be  sure.  It 
has  many  troubles.  Perhaps,  after  all,  a  quiet  and  peaceful  life  is 
better,  especially  for  you,  Wenna,  for  you  were  always  quiet  and 
peaceful,  and  if  any  trouble  came  over  you  it  would  break  your 
heart.  I  think  it  would  be  better  for  you  if  you  were  never  tried 
in  that  way,  Wenna." 

The  girl  rose,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Not  that  it  is  my  advice,  Wenna,"  said  the  mother  anxiously. 

B2 


34  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  But  you  are  of  tliat  nature,  you  see.  If  you  were  in  love  -witli  a 
young  man,  you  would  be  his  slave.  If  lie  ceased  to  care  for  you, 
or  were  cruel  to  you,  it  would  kill  you,  my  dear.  AVcll,  you  see, 
here  is  a  man  who  would  be  able  to  take  care  of  you,  and  of  your 
sister  Mabyn,  too,  if  anything  happened  to  your  father  or  me ;  and 
he  would  make  much  of  you,  I  have  no  doubt,  and  be  very  kind 
to  you.     You  are  not  like  other  girls,  Wenna — " 

"  I  know  that,  mother,"  said  the  girl,  with  a  strange  sort  of 
smile  that  just  trembled  on  the  verge  of  tears.  "  They  can't  all 
be  as  plain  as  I  am." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mean  that !  You  make  a  great  mistake  if  you 
think  that  men  care  only  for  doll-faces — as  Mr.  Roscorla  says,  that 
fancy  does  not  last  long  after  marriage,  and  then  men  begin  to  ask 
whether  their  wives  are  clever  and  amusing  and  well-informed, 
and  so  on.  AVhat  I  meant  was,  that  most  girls  could  run  the 
gauntlet  of  that  sort  of  love  that  Mr.  Roscorla  describes,  and  suffer 
little  if  they  made  a  mistake.  But  there's  no  shell  about  you, 
Wenna.  You  are  quite  undefended,  sensitive,  and  timid.  People 
are  deceived  by  your  quick  wit  and  your  cheerfulness  and  your 
singing.  I  know  better.  I  know  that  a  careless  word  may  cut 
you  deeply.  And  dear,  dear  me,  what  a  terrible  time  that  is  when 
all  your  life  seems  to  hang  on  the  way  a  word  is  spoken !" 

The  girl  crossed  over  to  a  small  side-table,  on  which  there  was 
a  writing-desk. 

"  But  mind,  Wenna,"  said  her  mother,  with  a  return  of  anxiety — 
"mind,  I  don't  say  that  to  influence  your  decision.  Don't  be  in- 
fluenced by  me.  Consult  your  own  feelings,  dear.  You  know  I 
fancy  sometimes  you  undervalue  yourself,  and  think  that  no  one 
cares  about  you,  and  that  you  have  no  claim  to  be  thought  much 
of.  Well,  that  is  a  great  mistake,  Wenna.  You  must  not  throw 
yourself  away  through  that  notion.  I  wish  all  the  girls  about  were 
as  clever  and  good-natured  as  you.  But  at  the  same  time,  you 
know,  there  are  few  girls  I  know,  and  certainly  none  about  here, 
who  would  consider  it  throwing  themselves  away  to  marry  Mr. 
Roscorla." 

"  Marry  Mr.  Roscorla .'"  a  third  voice  exclaimed ;  and  at  the 
same  moment  Mabyn  Rosewarne  entered  the  room. 

She  looked  at  her  mother  and  sister  with  astonishment.  She 
saw  that  Wenna  was  writing,  and  that  she  was  very  pale.  She 
saw  a  blue-colored  letter  lying  beside  her.    Then  the  proud  young 


RES    ANGUST^    DOMI.  35 

beauty  understood  the  situation ;  and  with  her  to  perceive  a  thing 
was  to  act  on  its  suggestion  there  and  then. 

"  Our  Wenna !  Marry  that  old  man  !  Oh,  mother !  how  can 
you  let  her  do  such  a  thing  ?" 

She  walked  right  over  to  the  small  table,  with  a  glow  of  indig- 
nation in  her  face,  and  with  her  lips  set  firm,  and  her  eyes  full  of 
fire ;  and  then  she  caught  up  the  letter,  that  had  scarcely  been  be- 
gun, and  tore  it  in  a  thousand  pieces,  and  flung  the  pieces  on  the 
floor. 

"  Oh,  mother !  how  could  you  let  her  do  it  ?  Mr.  Roscorla  marry 
our  Wenna !" 

She  took  two  or  three  steps  up  and  down  the  room,  in  a  pretty 
passion  of  indignation,  and  yet  trying  to  keep  her  proud  eyes  free 
from  tears. 

"  Mother,  if  you  do,  I'll  go  into  a  convent !  I'll  go  to  sea,  and 
never  come  back  again !  I  won't  stop  in  the  house  —  not  one 
__minute  —  if  Wenna  goes  away  !" 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  the  mother,  patiently,  "  it  is  not  my  do- 
ing. You  must  not  be  so  rash.  Mr.  Roscorla  is  not  an  old  man 
—  nothing  of  the  sort ;  and,  if  he  does  offer  to  marry  W^enna,  it 
is  a  great  honor  done  to  her,  I  think.  She  ought  to  be  very 
grateful,  as  I  hope  you  will  be,  Mabyn,  when  any  one  offers  to 
marry  you — " 

Miss  Mabyn  drew  herself  up  ;  and  her  pretty  mouth  lost  none 
of  its  scorn. 

"And  as  for  Wenna,"  the  mother  said,  "she  must  judge  for 
herself — " 

"  Oh,  but  she's  not  fit  to  judge  for  herself !"  broke  in  the  young- 
er sister  impetuously.  "  She  will  do  anything  that  anybody  wants. 
She  would  make  herself  the  slave  of  anybody.  She  is  always  be- 
ing imposed  on.  Just  wait  a  moment,  and  /  Avill  answer  Mr.  Ros- 
corla's  letter !" 

She  walked  over  to  the  table  again,  twisted  round  the  writing- 
desk,  and  quickly  pulled  in  a  chair.  You  would  have  thought 
that  the  pale,  dark-eyed  little  girl  on  the  other  side  of  the  table 
had  no  will  of  her  own — that  she  was  in  the  habit  of  obeying  this 
beautiful  young  termagant  of  a  sister  of  hers ;  but  Miss  Mabyn's 
bursts  of  impetuosity  were  no  match  for  the  gentle  firmness  and 
patience  that  were  invariably  opposed  to  them.  In  this  instance 
Mr.  Roscorla  was  not  to  be  the  recipient  of  a  letter  which  doubt- 
less would  have  astonished  him. 


36  THREE    FEATHERS, 

"  Mabyn,"  said  her  sister  "Wenna,  quietly,  "  don't  be  foolish.  I 
must  Avrite  to  Mr.  Roscorla  —  but  only  to  tell  him  that  I  have  re- 
ceived liis  letter.  Give  me  the  pen.  And  will  you  go  and  ask 
Mrs.  Borlase  if  she  can  spare  me  Jennifer  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
to  go  up  to  Basset  Cottage  ?" 

Mabyn  rose,  silent,  disappointed,  and  obedient,  but  not  subdued. 
She  Avent  oflE  to  execute  the  errand ;  but  as  she  went  she  said  to 
herself,  with  her  head  very  erect,  "  Before  Mr.  Roscorla  marries 
our  Wenna,  I  will  have  a  word  to  say  to  him." 

Meanwhile  Wenna  Rosewarne,  apparently  quite  calm,  but  with 
her  hand  trembling  so  that  she  could  hardly  hold  the  pen,  wrote 
her  first  love-letter ;  and  it  ran  thus : 

"Trelyon  Arms,  Tuesday  Afternoon. 
"  Dear  Mr.  Roscorla,  — 

"  I  have  received  your  letter,  and  you  must  not  think  me  of- 
fended. I  will  try  to  send  you  an  answer  to-morrow  ;  or  perhaps 
the  day  after,  or  perhaps  on  Friday  ;  I  will  try  to  send  you  an  an- 
swer to  your  letter. 

"  I  am  yours  sincerely, 

"  Wenna  Rosew^^rne." 

She  took  it  timidly  to  her  mother,  who  smiled,  and  said  it  was 
a  little  incoherent. 

"  But  I  cannot  write  it  again,  mother,"  the  girl  said.  "  Will 
you  give  it  to  Jennifer  Avhen  she  comes  ?" 

Little  did  Miss  Wenna  notice  of  the  beautiful  golden  afternoon 
that  was  shining  over  Eglosilyan  as  she  left  the  inn  and  stole  away 
out  to  the  rocks  at  the  mouth  of  the  little  harbor.  She  spoke  to 
her  many  acquaintances  as  she  passed,  and  could  not  have  told  a 
minute  thereafter  that  she  had  seen  them.  She  said  a  word  or 
two  to  the  coastguardsman  out  at  the  point — an  old  friend  of  hers 
—  and  then  she  went  round  to  the  seaward  side  of  the  rocks,  and 
sat  down  to  think  the  whole  matter  over.  Tlie  sea  was  as  still  as 
a  sea  in  a  dream.  There  was  but  one  ship  visible,  away  down  in 
the  south,  a  brown  speck  in  a  flood  of  golden  haze. 

When  the  first  startled  feeling  was  over — when  she  had  recov- 
ered from  the  absolute  fright  that  so  sudden  a  proposal  had  caused 
her — sometlung  of  pride  and  pleasure  crept  into  her  heart  to  know 
that  she  was  not  quite  the  insignificant  person  she  liad  fancied 


RES    ANGUST^    DOMI,  37 

herself  to  be.  Was  it  true,  then,  what  he  had  said  about  her  be- 
ing of  some  use  to  the  people  around  her  ?  Did  they  really  care 
for  her  ?  Had  she  really  won  the  respect  and  approval  of  a  man 
who  had  hitherto  seemed  to  her  suspicious  and  censorious  ? 

There  flashed  upon  her  some  faint  picture  of  herself  as  a  ma- 
tron, and  she  found  herself  blushing  to  think  of  herself  going 
round  the  cottages  as  Mrs.  Roscorla,  and  acting  the  part  of  a  little 
married  woman.  If  marriage  meant  no  more  than  that,  she  was 
not  afraid  of  it ;  on  the  contrary,  the  prospect  rather  pleased  her. 
These  were  duties  she  could  understand.  Marriage,  in  those  idle 
day-dreams  of  hers,  had  seemed  to  her  some  vague  and  distant 
and  awful  thing ;  all  the  romance  and  worship  and  noble  surren- 
der of  it  being  far  away  from  a  poor  little  plain  person,  not  ca- 
pable of  inspiring  idealism  in  anybody.  But  this,  on  the  other 
hand,  seemed  easily  Avithin  her  reach.  She  became  rather  amused 
with  the  picture  which  she  drew  of  herself  as  Mrs.  Roscorla.  Her 
quick  fancy  put  in  humorous  touches  here  and  there,  until  she 
found  herself  pretty  nearly  laughing  at  herself  as  a  tiny  married 
woman.  For  what  did  the  frank-spoken  heroine  of  that  sailor- 
ballad  say  to  her  lover  ?     If  he  would  be  faithful  and  kind — 

"Nor  your  Molly  forsake, 
Still  your  trousers  I'll  wash,  and  your  grog,  too,  I'll  make." 

As  for  his  grog,  would  she  mix  the  proper  quantities,  as  they  sat 
together  of  an  evening,  by  themselves,  in  that  little  parlor  up  at 
Basset  Cottage?  And  would  she  have  to  take  his  arm  as  they 
walked  of  a  Sunday  morning  to  church,  up  the  main  street  of 
Eglosilyan,  where  all  her  old  friends,  the  children,  would  be  look- 
ing at  her  ?  And  would  she  some  day,  with  all  the  airs  and  coun- 
sels of  a  married  woman,  have  to  take  Mabyn  to  her  arms,  and 
bid  the  younger  sister  have  confidence,  and  listen  to  all  the  story 
of  Mabyn's  wonder  and  delight  over  the  new  and  strange  love 
that  had  come  into  her  heart?  And  would  she  ask  Mabyn  to 
describe  her  lover  ?  and  would  she  act  the  ordinary  part  of  an 
experienced  adviser,  and  bid  her  be  cautious,  and  ask  her  to  wait 
until  the  young  man  had  made  a  position  in  the  world,  and  had 
proved  himself  prudent  and  sensible  and  of  steady  mind?  Or 
would  she  not  rather  fling  her  arms  round  her  sister's  neck,  and 
bid  her  go  down  on  her  knees  and  thank  God  for  having  made 
her  so  beautiful,  and  bid  her  cherish  as  the  one  good  thing  in  all 


38  THREE    FEATHERS. 

the  world  the  strong  and  yearning  love  and  admiration  and  wor- 
ship of  a  young  and  wondering  soul  ? 

AVenna  Koscwarne  had  been  amusing  herself  Avith  these  pictures 
of  herself  as  a  married  woman ;  but  she  was  crying  all  the  same ; 
and  becoming  a  little  impatient  with  herself,  and  perhaps  a  trifle 
hysterical,  she  rose  from  the  rocks  and  thought  she  would  go 
home  again.  She  had  scarcely  turned,  however,  when  she  met 
Mr.  Roscorla  himself,  who  had  seen  her  at  a  distance,  and  fol- 
lowed her. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    LAST    LOOK    BACK. 


Mr.  Roscorla  may  be  recommended  to  ladies  generally,  and 
to  married  men  who  are  haunted  by  certain  vague  and  vain  re- 
grets, as  an  excellent  example  of  the  evils  and  vanity  of  club  life. 
He  was  now  a  man  approaching  fifty,  careful  in  dress  and  man- 
ner, methodical  in  habit,  and  grave  of  aspect,  living  out  a  not 
over-enjoyable  life  in  a  solitary  little  cottage,  and  content  to  go 
for  his  society  to  the  good  folks  of  the  village  inn.  But  five-and- 
twenty  years  before  he  had  been  a  gay  young  fellow  about  town, 
a  pretty  general  favorite,  clever  in  his  way,  free  with  his  money, 
and  possessed  of  excellent  spirits.  He  was  not  very  wealthy,  to  be 
sure  ;  his  father  had  left  him  certain  shares  in  some  plantations  in 
Jamaica,  but  the  returns  periodically  forwarded  to  him  by  his 
agents  were  sufficient  for  his  immediate  wants.  He  had  few  cares, 
and  he  seemed  on  the  whole  to  have  a  pleasant  time  of  it.  On 
disengaged  evenings  he  lounged  about  his  club,  and  dined  with 
one  or  other  of  the  men  he  knew,  and  then  he  played  billiards 
till  bedtime.  Or  he  would  have  nice  little  dinner-parties  at  his 
rooms ;  and  after  the  men  had  changed  their  coats,  would  have  a 
few  games  at  whist,  perhaps  finishing  up  with  a  little  spurt  of  un- 
limited loo.  In  the  season  he  went  to  balls  and  dinners  and  par- 
ties of  all  sorts,  singling  out  a  few  families  with  pretty  daughters 
for  his  special  attentions,  but  careful  never  to  commit  himself. 
When  every  one  went  from  town  he  went  too,  and  in  the  autumn 
and  winter  months  he  had  a  fair  amount  of  shooting  and  hunting, 
guns  and  horses  alike,  and  willingly,  furnished  him  by  his  friends. 


THE    LAST    LOOK    BACK.  39 

Once,  indeed,  lie  had  taken  a  fancy  that  he  ought  to  do  some- 
thing, and  he  went  and  read  law  a  bit,  and  ate  some  dinners,  and 
got  called  to  the  Bar.  He  even  went  the  length  of  going  on  Cir- 
cuit ;  but  either  he  travelled  by  coach,  or  fraternized  with  a  solici- 
tor, or  did  something  objectionable ;  at  all  events  his  Circuit  mess 
fined  him :  he  refused  to  pay  the  fine,  threw  the  whole  thing  up, 
and  returned  to  his  club  and  its  carefully  ordered  dinners,  and  its 
friendly  game  of  sixpenny  and  eighteen-penny  pool. 

Of  course  he  dressed  and  acted  and  spoke  just  as  his  fellows 
did,  and  gradually  from  the  common  talk  of  smoking-rooms  im- 
bibed a  vast  amount  of  nonsense.  He  knew  that  such  and  such 
a  statesman  professed  particular  opinions  only  to  keep  in  place 
and  enjoy  the  loaves  and  fishes.  He  could  tell  you  to  a  penny 
the  bribe  given  to  the  editor  of  the  Times  by  a  foreign  govern- 
ment for  a  certain  series  of  articles.  As  for  the  stories  he  heard 
and  repeated  of  all  manner  of  noble  families,  they  were  many  of 
them  doubtless  true,  and  they  were  nearly  all  unpleasant;  but 
then  the  tale  that  would  have  been  regarded  with  indifference  if 
told  about  an  ordinary  person,  grew  lambent  with  interest  when 
it  was  told  about  a  commonplace  woman  possessed  of  a  shire  and 
a  gaby  crowned  with  a  coronet.  There  was  no  malice  in  these 
stories ;  only  the  young  men  were  supposed  to  know  everything 
about  the  private  aflEairs  of  a  certain  number  of  families  no  more 
nearly  related  to  them  than  their  washerwoman. 

He  was  unfortunate,  too,  in  a  few  personal  experiences.  He 
was  a  fairly  well-intentioned  young  man  ;  and,  going  home  one 
night,  was  moved  to  pity  by  the  sobbing  and  exclamations  of  a 
little  girl  of  twelve,  whose  mother  was  drunk  and  tumbling  about 
the  pavement.  The  child  could  not  get  her  mother  to  go  home, 
and  it  was  now  past  midnight.  Richard  Roscorla  thought  he 
would  interfere,  and  Avent  over  the  way  and  helped  the  woman  to 
her  feet.  He  had  scarcely  done  so  when  the  virago  turned  on 
him,  shouted  for  help,  accused  him  of  assaulting  her,  and  finally 
hit  him  straight  between  the  eyes,  nearly  blinding  him,  and  caus- 
ing him  to  keep  his  chambers  for  three  weeks.  After  that  he 
gave  up  the  loAver  classes. 

Then  a  gentleman  who  had  been  his  bosom  friend  at  Eton,  and 
who  had  carried  away  with  him  so  little  of  the  atmosphere  of  that 
institution  that  he  by  and  by  abandoned  himself  to  trade,  renewed 
his  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Roscorla,  and  besought  him  to  join  him 


40  THREE    FEATHERS. 

in  a  little  business  transaction.  He  only  -wanted  a  few  thousand 
pounds  to  secure  the  success  of  a  venture  that  would  make  both 
their  fortunes.  Young  Roscorla  hesitated.  Then  his  friend  sent 
his  wife,  an  exceedingly  pretty  woman,  and  she  pleaded  with  such 
sweetness  and  pathos  that  she  actually  carried  away  a  check  for 
the  amount  in  her  beautiful  little  purse.  A  couple  of  days  after- 
wards Mr.  Roscorla  discovered  that  his  friend  had  suddenly  left 
the  country ;  that  he  had  induced  a  good  many  people  to  lend 
him  money  to  start  his  new  enterprise ;  and  that  the  beautiful 
lady  whom  he  had  sent  to  plead  his  cause  was  a  wife  certainly, 
but  not  his  wife.  She  was,  in  fact,  the  wife  of  one  of  the  swin- 
dled creditors,  who  bore  her  loss  with  greater  equanimity  than  he 
showed  in  speaking  of  his  departed  money.  Young  Roscorla 
laughed,  and  said  to  himself  that  a  man  who  wished  to  have  any 
knowledge  of  the  world  must  be  prepared  to  pay  for  it. 

The  loss  of  the  money,  though  it  pressed  him  hardly  for  a  few 
years,  and  gave  a  fright  to  his  father's  executors,  did  not  trouble 
him  much ;  for,  in  company  with  a  good  many  of  the  young  fel- 
lows about,  he  had  given  himself  up  to  one  of  the  most  pleasing 
delusions  which  even  club-life  has  fostered.  It  was  the  belief  of 
those  young  men  that  in  England  there  are  a  vast  number  of  young 
ladies  of  fortune  who  are  so  exceedingly  anxious  to  get  married 
that  any  decent  young  fellow  of  fair  appearance  and  good  man- 
ners has  only  to  bide  his  time  in  order  to  be  provided  for  for  life. 
Accordingly  Mr.  Roscorla  and  others  of  his  particular  set  were  in 
no  hurry  to  take  a  wife.  They  waited  to  see  who  would  bid 
most  for  them.  They  were  not  in  want ;  they  could  have  main- 
tained a  Avifc  in  a  certain  fashion ;  but  that  was  not  the  fashion 
in  which  they  hoped  to  spend  the  rest  of  their  days,  when  they 
consented  to  relinquish  the  joys  and  freedom  of  bachelorhood. 
Most  of  them,  indeed,  had  so  thoroughly  settled  in  their  own 
mind  the  sort  of  existence  to  which  they  were  entitled — the  house 
and  horses  and  shooting  necessary  to  them — that  it  was  impos- 
sible for  them  to  consider  any  lesser  offer ;  and  so  they  waited 
from  year  to  year,  guarding  themselves  against  temptation,  culti- 
vating an  excellent  taste  in  various  sorts  of  luxuries,  and  reserving 
themselves  for  the  grand  cotq)  which  was  to  make  their  fortune. 
In  many  cases  they  looked  upon  themselves  as  the  victims  of  the 
world.  They  had  been  deceived  by  this  or  the  other  woman  ; 
but  now  they  had  done  with  the  fatal  passion  of  love,  its  dangei*- 


THE    LAST    LOOK    BACK.  41 

ous  perplexities  and  insincere  romance  ;  and  Avere  resolved  to  tate 
a  sound,  common-sense  view  of  life.  So  they  waited  carelessly, 
and  enjoyed  their  time,  growing  in  wisdom  of  a  certain  sort. 
They  were  gentlemanly  young  fellows  enough ;  they  would  not 
have  done  a  dishonorable  action  for  the  world;  they  were  well- 
bred,  and  would  have  said  no  discourteous  thing  to  the  woman 
they  married,  even  though  they  hated  her;  they  had  their  cold 
bath  every  morning ;  they  lived  soberly,  if  not  very  righteously ; 
and  would  not  have  asked  ten  points  at  billiards  if  they  fairly 
thought  they  could  have  played  even.  The  only  thing  was  that 
they  had  changed  their  sex.  They  were  not  Perseus,  but  An- 
dromeda; and  while  this  poor  masculine  Andromeda  remained 
chained  to  the  rock  of  an  imaginary  poverty,  the  feminine  Per- 
seus who  was  to  come  in  a  blaze  of  jewels  and  gold  to  the  rescue 
still  remained  afar  off,  until  Andromeda  got  a  little  tired. 

And  so  it  was  with  Mr.  Richard  Roscorla.  He  lounged  about 
his  club,  and  had  nice  little  dinners;  he  went  to  other  people's 
houses,  and  dined  there ;  with  his  crush-hat  under  his  arm  he  went 
to  many  a  dance,  and  made  such  acquaintances  as  he  might ;  but 
somehow  that  one  supreme  chance  invariably  missed.  He  did 
not  notice  it,  any  more  than  his  fellows.  If  you  had  asked  any 
of  them,  they  would  still  have  given  you  those  devil-may-care 
opinions  about  women,  and  those  shrewd  estimates  of  what  was 
worth  living  for  in  the  world.  They  did  not  seem  to  be  award 
that  year  after  year  was  going  by,  and  that  a  new  race  of  younger 
men  were  coming  to  the  front,  eager  for  all  sorts  of  pastimes, 
ready  to  dance  till  daybreak,  and  defying  with  their  splendid  con- 
stitutions the  worst  champagne  a  confectioner  ever  brcAved,  A 
man  who  takes  good  care  of  himself  is  sIoav  to  believe  that  he  is 
growing  middle-aged.  If  the  sitting -up  all  night  to  play  loo 
does  him  an  injury  such  as  he  would  not  have  experienced  a  few 
years  before,  he  lays  the  blame  of  it  on  the  brandy-and-soda. 
When  two  or  three  hours  over  wet  turnips  make  his  knees  feci 
queer,  he  vows  that  he  is  in  bad  condition,  but  that  a  few  days' 
exercise  will  set  him  right.  It  was  a  long  time  before  Mr.  Rich- 
ard Roscorla  would  admit  to  himself  that  his  liair  was  growing 
gray.  By  this  time  many  of  his  old  friends  and  associates  had 
left  the  club.  Some  had  died ;  some  had  made  the  best  of  a  bad 
bargain,  and  married  a  plain  country  cousin ;  none,  to  tell  the 
truth,  had  been  rescued  by  the  beautiful  heiress  for  whom  they 


42  THREE    FEATHERS. 

had  all  been  previously  waiting.  And  Tvliile  these  men  went 
away,  and  while  new  men  came  into  the  club — young  fellows  with 
fresh  complexions,  abundant  spirits,  a  lavish  disregard  of  money, 
and  an  amazing  enjoyment  in  drinking  any  sort  of  wine — another 
set  of  circumstances  came  into  play  which  rendered  it  more  and 
more  necessary  for  Mr.  Roscorla  to  change  his  ways  of  life. 

He  was  now  over  forty ;  his  hair  was  gray ;  his  companions 
were  mostly  older  men  than  himself ;  and  he  began  to  be  rather 
pressed  for  money.  The  merchants  in  London  who  sold  for  his 
agents  in  Jamaica  those  consignments  of  sugar  and  rum  sent  him 
every  few  months  statements  which  showed  that  either  the  estates 
were  yielding  less,  or  the  markets  had  fallen,  or  labor  had  risen — 
whatever  it  might  be,  his  annual  income  was  very  seriously  im- 
paired. He  could  no  longer  afford  to  play  half-crown  points  at 
whist — even  sixpenny  pool  was  dangerous ;  and  those  boxes  and 
stalls  which  it  was  once  his  privilege  to  take  for  dowagers  gifted 
with  daughters  were  altogether  out  of  the  question.  The  rent  of 
his  rooms  in  Jermyn  Street  was  a  serious  matter;  all  his  little 
economies  at  the  club  were  of  little  avail ;  at  last  he  resolved  to 
leave  London.  And  then  it  was  that  he  bethought  him  of  living 
permanently  at  this  cottage  at  Eglosilyan,  which  had  belonged  to 
his  grandfather,  and  which  he  had  visited  from  time  to  time  dur- 
ing the  summer  months.  He  would  continue  his  club  subscrip- 
tion ;  he  would  still  correspond  with  certain  of  his  friends ;  he 
would  occasionally  pay  a  flying  visit  to  London ;  and  down  here 
by  the  Cornish  coast  he  would  live  a  healthy,  economical,  con- 
tented life. 

So  he  came  to  Eglosilyan,  and  took  up  his  abode  in  the  plain 
white  cottage  placed  amid  birch-trees  on  the  side  of  the  hill,  and 
set  about  providing  himself  with  amusement.  He  had  a  good 
many  books,  and  he  read  at  night  over  his  final  pipe ;  he  made 
friends  with  the  fishermen,  and  often  went  out  with  them ;  he 
took  a  little  interest  in  wild  plants ;  and  he  rode  a  sturdy  little 
pony  by  way  of  exercise.  He  was  known  to  the  Trclyons,  to  the 
clergymen  of  the  neigborhood,  and  to  one  or  two  families  living 
farther  off ;  but  he  did  not  dine  out  much,  for  he  could  not  well 
invite  his  host  to  dinner  in  return.  His  chief  friends,  indeed, 
were  the  Rosewarnes ;  and  scarcely  a  day  passed  that  he  did  not 
call  at  the  inn  and  have  a  chat  with  George  Rosewarne,  or  with 
his  wife  and  daughters.     For  the  rest,  Mr.  Roscorla  was  a  small 


THE    LAST    LOOK    BACK.  43 

man,  sparely  built,  with  somewhat  fresh  complexion,  close-cropped 
gray  hair,  and  iron-gray  whiskers.  He  dressed  very  neatly  and 
methodically ;  he  was  fairly  light  and  active  in  his  walk ;  and  he 
had  a  grave,  good-natured  smile.  He  was  much  improved  in  con- 
stitution, indeed,  since  he  came  to  Eglosilyan ;  for  that  was  not 
a  place  to  let  any  one  die  of  languor,  or  to  encourage  complexions 
of  the  color  of  apple-pudding.  Mr.  Roscorla,  indeed,  had  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  pleasant  little  country  lawyer,  somewhat  finical  in 
dress  and  grave  in  manner,  and  occasionally  just  a  trifle  super- 
cilious and  cutting  in  his  speech. 

He  had  received  Wenna  Rosewarne's  brief  and  hurriedly  written 
note ;  and  if  accident  had  not  thrown  her  in  his  way,  he  would 
doubtless  have  granted  her  that  time  for  reflection  which  she  de- 
manded. But  happening  to  be  out,  he  saw  her  go  down  towards 
the  rocks  beyond  the  harbor.  She  had  a  pretty  figure,  and  she 
walked  gracefully ;  when  he  saw  her  at  a  distance  some  little  flut- 
ter of  anxiety  disturbed  his  heart.  That  glimpse  of  her — the  pos- 
sibility of  securing  as  his  constant  companion  a  girl  who  walked 
so  daintily  and  dressed  so  neatly — added  some  little  warmth  of 
feeling  to  the  wish  he  had  carefully  reasoned  out  and  expressed. 
For  the  offer  he  had  sent  to  Miss  Wenna  was  the  result  of  much 
calculation.  He  was  half  aware  that  he  had  let  his  youth  slip  by 
and  idled  away  his  opportunities ;  there  was  now  no  chance  of  his 
engaging  in  any  profession  or  pursuit ;  there  was  little  chance  of 
his  bettering  his  condition  by  a  rich  marriage.  AVhat  could  he 
now  offer  to  a  beautiful  young  creature  possessed  of  fortune,  such 
as  he  had  often  looked  out  for,  in  return  for  herself  and  her  money  ? 
Not  his  gray  hairs,  and  his  asthmatic  evenings  in  winter,  and  the 
fixed  and  narrow  and  oftentimes  selfish  habits  and  opinions  be- 
gotten of  a  solitary  life.  Here,  on  the  other  hand,  was  a  young 
lady  of  pleasing  manners  and  honest  nature,  and  of  humble  wishes, 
as  became  her  station,  whom  he  might  induce  to  marry  him.  She 
had  scarcely  ever  moved  out  of  the  small  circle  around  her ;  and 
in  it  were  no  possible  lovers  for  her.  If  he  did  not  marry  her,  she 
might  drift  into  as  hopeless  a  position  as  his  own.  If  she  con- 
sented to  marry  him,  would  they  not  be  able  to  live  in  a  friendly 
way  together,  gradually  winning  each  other's  sympathy,  and  mak- 
ing the  world  a  little  more  sociable  and  comfortable  for  both  ? 
There  was  no  chance  of  his  going  back  to  the  brilliant  society  in 
which  he  had  once  moved ;  for  there  was  no  one  whom  he  could 


44  THREE    FEATHERS, 

expect  to  die  and  leave  liim  any  money.  When  he  went  up  to 
town  and  spent  an  evening  or  two  at  his  club,  he  found  himself 
almost  wholly  among  strangers ;  and  he  could  not  get  that  satis- 
faction out  of  a  solitary  dinner  that  once  was  his.  He  returned 
to  his  cottage  at  Eglosilyan  with  some  degree  of  resignation ;  and 
fancied  he  could  live  well  enough  there  if  Wenna  Roscwarne  would 
only  come  to  relieve  him  from  its  frightful  loneliness. 

He  blushed  when  he  went  forward  to  her  on  these  rocks,  and 
was  exceedingly  embarrassed,  and  could  scarcely  look  her  in  the 
face  as  he  begged  her  pardon  for  intruding  on  her,  and  hoped  she 
would  resume  her  seat.  She  was  a  little  pale,  and  would  have 
liked  to  get  away,  but  was  probably  so  frightened  that  she  did 
not  know  how  to  take  the  step.  "Without  a  word,  she  sat  down 
again,  her  heart  beating  as  if  it  would  suffocate  her.  Then  there 
was  a  terrible  pause. 

Mr.  Roscorla  discovered  at  this  moment — and  the  shock  almost 
bewildered  him — that  he  would  have  to  play  the  part  of  a  lover. 
He  had  left  that  out  of  the  question.  He  had  found  it  easy  to 
dissociate  love  from  marriage  in  writing  a  letter ;  in  fact  he  had 
written  it  mainly  to  get  over  the  necessity  of  shamming  sentiment; 
but  here  was  a  young  and  sensitive  girl,  probably  with  a  good  deal 
of  romantic  nonsense  in  her  head,  and  he  was  going  to  ask  her  to 
marry  him.  And  just  at  this  moment,  also,  a  terrible  recollection 
flashed  in  on  his  mind  of  Wenna  Rosewarne's  liking  for  humor,  and 
of  the  merry  light  he  had  often  seen  in  her  eyes,  however  demure 
her  manner  might  be ;  and  then  it  occurred  to  him  that  if  he  did 
play  the  lover,  she  would  know  that  he  knew  he  was  making  a  fool 
of  himself,  and  laugh  at  him  in  the  safe  concealment  of  her  own 
room. 

"  Of  course,"  he  said,  making  a  sudden  plunge,  followed  by  a 
gasp  or  two — "  of  course — Miss  Wenna — of  course  you  were  sur- 
prised to  get  my  letter — a  letter  containing  an  offer  of  marriage, 
and  almost  nothing  about  affection  in  it.  Well,  there  are  some 
things  one  can  neither  write  nor  say — they  have  so  often  been 
the  subject  of  good-natured  ridicule  that — that — " 

"  I  think  one  forgets  that,"  Wenna  said  timidly,  "  if  one  is  in 
earnest  about  anything." 

"  Miss  Wenna,"  he  said,  "  you  know  I  find  it  very  difficult  to 
say  what  I  should  like  to  say.  The  letter  did  not  tell  you  half — 
probably  you  thought  it  too  dry  and  business-like.  But  at  all  events 
you  were  not  offended  ?" 


THE    LAST    LOOK    BACK.  45 

"  Oh  no,"  she  said,  wondering  how  she  could  get  away,  and 
whether  a  precipitate  phinge  into  the  sea  below  her  would  not  be 
the  simplest  plan.  Her  head,  she  felt,  was  growing  giddy,  and 
she  began  to  hear  snatches  of  "  Wapping  Old  Stairs  "  in  the  roar 
of  the  waves  around  her. 

But  he  continued  to  talk  to  her,  insisting  on  much  he  had  said 
in  his  letter,  and  that  with  a  perfect  faith  in  its  truth.  So  far  as 
his  own  experience  went,  the  hot-headed  romanticism  of  youth  had 
only  led  to  mischief.  Then  the  mere  fact  that  she  allowed  him 
to  talk  was  everything ;  a  point  was  gained  in  that  she  had  not 
straightway  sent  him  off. 

Incidentally  he  spoke  of  her  charitable  labors  among  the  poorer 
folks  of  Eglosilyan ;  and  here  he  speedily  saw  he  had  got  an  open- 
ing, and  he  made  use  of  it  dexterously.  For  Miss  Wenna's  weak 
side  was  a  great  distrust  of  herself,  and  a  longing  to  be  assured 
that  she  was  cared  for  by  anybody,  and  of  some  little  account  in 
the  world.  To  tell  her  that  the  people  of  Eglosilyan  were  without 
exception  fond  of  her,  and  ready  at  all  moments  to  say  kind  things 
of  her,  was  the  sweetest  flattery  to  her  ears.  Mr.  Roscorla  easily 
perceived  this,  and  made  excellent  use  of  his  discovery.  If  she 
did  not  quite  believe  all  that  she  heard,  she  was  secretly  delighted 
to  hear  it.  It  hinted  at  the  possible  realization  of  all  her  dreams, 
even  though  she  could  never  be  beautiful,  rich,  and  of  noble  pres- 
ence. Wenna's  heart  rather  inclined  to  her  companion  just  then. 
He  seemed  to  her  to  be  a  connecting  link  between  her  and  her 
manifold  friends  in  Eglosilyan ;  for  how  had  he  heard  those 
things,  which  she  had  not  heard,  if  he  were  not  in  general  com- 
munication with  them  ?  He  seemed  to  her,  too,  a  friendly  coun- 
sellor on  whom  she  could  rely ;  he  was  the  very  first,  indeed  who 
had  ever  offered  to  help  her  in  her  work. 

"  It  is  far  more  a  matter  of  intention  than  of  temper,"  he  con- 
tinued, speaking  in  a  roundabout  way  of  marriage.  "  When  once 
two  people  find  out  the  good  qualities  in  each  other,  they  should 
fix  their  faith  on  those,  and  let  the  others  be  overlooked  as  much 
as  possible.  But  I  don't  think  there  is  much  to  be  feared  from 
your  temper.  Miss  Wenna ;  and  as  for  mine — I  suppose  I  get  vexed 
sometimes,  like  other  people,  but  I  don't  think  I  am  bad-tempered, 
and  I  am  sure  I  should  never  be  bad-tempered  to  you.  I  don't 
think  I  should  readily  forget  what  I  owe  you  for  taking  pity  on 
a  solitary  old  fellow  like  myself,  if  I  can  only  persuade  you  to  do 


46  THREi:    FEATHERS. 

that,  and  for  being  content  to  live  a  humdrum  life  up  in  that  small 
cottage.  By  the  way,  do  you  like  riding,  AVenna?  Has  your 
father  got  a  lady's  saddle  ?" 

The  question  startled  her  so  that  the  blood  rushed  to  her  face 
in  a  moment,  and  she  could  not  answer.  AVas  it  not  that  very 
morning  that  she  had  been  asked  almost  the  same  question  by 
Mr.  Trelyon  ?  And  Avhile  she  was  dreamily  looking  at  an  imagi- 
native picture  of  her  future  life,  calm  and  placid  and  common- 
place, the  sudden  introduction  into  it  of  Harry  Trelyon  almost 
frightened  her.  The  mere  recalling  of  his  name,  indeed,  shattered 
that  magic-lantern  slide,  and  took  her  back  to  their  parting  of  the 
forenoon,  when  he  left  her  in  something  of  an  angry  fashion ;  or, 
rather,  it  took  lier  still  further  back — to  one  bright  summer  morn- 
ing on  which  she  had  met  young  Trelyon  riding  over  the  downs 
to  St.  Gennis.  We  all  of  us  know  how  apt  the  mind  is  to  retain 
one  particular  impression  of  a  friend's  appearance,  sometimes  even 
in  the  matter  of  dress  and  occupation.  "WTien  we  recall  such  and 
such  a  person,  we  think  of  a  particular  smile,  a  particular  look ; 
perhaps  one  particular  incident  of  his  or  her  life.  "Whenever  Wen- 
na  Rosewarne  thought  of  Mr.  Trelyon,  she  thought  of  him  as  she 
saw  him  on  that  one  morning.  She  was  coming  along  the  rough 
path  that  crosses  the  bare  uplands  by  the  sea;  he  was  riding  by 
another  path  some  little  distance  off,  and  did  not  notice  her.  The 
boy  was  riding  hard ;  the  sunlight  was  on  his  face  ;  he  was  sing- 
ing aloud  some  song  about  the  Cavaliers  and  King  Charles.  Two 
or  three  years  had  come  and  gone  since  then.  She  had  seen  Mas- 
ter Hurry  in  many  a  mood,  and  not  unfrequently  ill-tempered;  but 
whenever  she  thought  of  him  suddenly,  her  memory  presented  her 
with  that  picture ;  and  it  was  the  picture  of  a  handsome  English 
lad  riding  by  on  a  summer  morning,  singing  a  brave  song,  and  with 
all  the  light  of  youth  and  hope  and  courage  shining  on  his  face. 

She  rose  quickly,  and  with  a  sigh,  as  if  she  had  been  dreaming 
for  a  time,  and  forgetting  for  a  moment  the  sadness  of  the  world. 

"  Oh,  you  asked  about  a  saddle,"  she  said,  in  a  matter-of-fact 
way.  "  Yes,  I  think  my  father  has  one.  I  think  I  must  be  going 
home  now,  Mr.  Roscorla." 

"  No,  not  yet,"  he  said,  in  a  pleading  way.  "  Give  me  a  few 
more  minutes.  I  mayn't  have  another  chance  before  you  make 
up  your  mind,  and  then,  when  that  is  done,  I  suppose  it  is  all 
over,  so  far  as  persuasion  goes.     What  I  am  most  anxious  about 


THE    LAST    LOOK    BACK.  47 

is  that  you  should  believe  there  is  more  affection  in  my  offer  than 
I  have  actually  conveyed  in  words.  Don't  imagine  it  is  merely  a 
commonplace  bargain  I  Avant  you  to  enter  into.  I  hope,  indeed, 
that  in  time  I  shall  Avin  from  you  something  warmer  than  affec- 
tion, if  only  you  give  me  the  chance.  Now,  Wenna,  won't  you 
give  me  some  word  of  assurance — some  hint  that  it  may  come  all 
right?" 

She  stood  before  him,  with  her  eyes  cast  down,  and  remained 
silent  for  what  seemed  to  him  a  strangely  long  time.  Was  she 
bidding  good-bye  to  all  the  romantic  dreams  of  her  youth — to 
that  craving  in  a  girl's  heart  for  some  firm  and  sure  ideal  of  manly 
love  and  courage  and  devotion  to  which  she  can  cling  through 
good  report  and  bad  report  ?  Was  she  reconciling  herself  to  the 
plain  and  common  ways  of  the  married  life  placed  before  her? 
She  said  at  length,  in  a  low  voice — 

"  You  Avon't  ask  me  to  leave  Eglosilyan  ?" 

"  Certainly  not,"  he  said,  eagerly.  "  And  you  will  see  how  I 
will  try  to  join  you  in  all  your  Avork  there,  and  hoAv  much  easier 
and  plcasanter  it  will  be  for  you,  and  hoAv  much  more  satisfactory 
for  all  the  people  around  you." 

She  put  out  her  hand  timidly,  her  eyes  still  cast  doAvn. 

"  You  will  be  my  Avife,  Wenna  ?" 

"  Yes,"  she  said. 

Mr.  Roscorla  was  conscious  that  he  ought  at  this  high  moment 
in  a  man's  life  to  experience  a  strange  thrill  of  happiness.  He 
almost  waited  for  it ;  but  he  felt  instead  a  very  distinct  sense  of 
embarrassment  in  not  knoAving  Avhat  to  do  or  say  next.  He  sup- 
posed that  he  ought  to  kiss  her,  but  he  dared  not.  As  he  himself 
had  said,  Wenna  RoscAvarne  Avas  so  fine  and  shy  that  he  shrank 
from  wounding  her  extreme  sensitiveness ;  and  to  step  forward 
and  kiss  this  quiet  and  gentle  creature,  who  stood  there  with  her 
pale  face  faintly  flushed  and  her  eyes  averted — Avhy,  it  Avas  im- 
possible. He  had  heard  of  girls,  in  Avild  moments  of  pleasure 
and  persuasion,  suddenly  raising  their  tear -filled  ej^es  to  tlieii' 
lover's  face,  and  signing  away  their  Avhole  existence  Avith  one  full, 
passionate,  and  yearning  kiss.  But  to  steal  a  kiss  from  this  calm 
little  girl?  He  felt  he  should  be  acting  the  part  of  a  jocular 
ploughboy. 

"  Wenna,"  he  said  at  length,  "  you  have  made  me  very  happy. 
I  am  sure  you  Avill  never  repent  your  decision ;  at  least  I  shall  do 


48  THREE    FEATHERS. 

my  best  to  make  you  think  you  have  done  right.  And,  Wenna, 
I  have  to  dine  with  the  Trelyons  on  Friday  evening;  would  you 
allow  me  to  tell  them  something  of  what  has  happened  ?" 

"  The  Trelyons  !"  she  repeated,  looking  up  in  a  startled  way. 

It  was  of  evil  omen  for  this  man's  happiness  that  the  mere 
mention  of  that  word  turned  this  girl,  who  had  just  been  yielding 
up  her  life  to  him,  into  a  woman  as  obdurate  and  unimpression- 
able as  a  piece  of  marble. 

"  Mr.  Roscorla,"  she  said,  with  a  certain  hard  decision  of  voice, 
"  I  must  ask  you  to  give  me  back  that  promise  I  made.  I  forgot 
— it  was  too  hurried ;  why  would  you  not  wait  ?" 

He  Avas  fairly  stupefied. 

"  Mr.  Roscorla,"  she  said,  with  almost  something  of  petulant 
impatience  in  her  voice,  "  you  must  let  me  go  now ;  I  am  quite 
tired  out.  I  Avill  write  to  you  to-morrow  or  next  day,  as  I  prom- 
ised." 

She  passed  him  and  went  on,  leaving  him  unable  to  utter  a 
word  of  protest.  But  she  had  only  gone  a  few  steps  when  she 
returned,  and  held  out  her  hand  and  said — 

"  I  hope  I  have  not  oflEended  you  ?  It  seems  that  I  must  offend 
everybody  now  ;  but  I  am  a  little  tired,  Mr.  Roscorla." 

There  was  just  the  least  quiver  about  her  lips ;  and  as  all  this 
was  a  profound  mystery  to  him,  he  fancied  he  must  have  tired  her 
out,  and  he  inwardly  called  himself  a  brute. 

"My  dear  Wenna,"  he  said,  "you  have  not  offended  me — you 
have  not  really.  It  is  I  who  must  apologize  to  you.  I  am  so 
sorry  I  should  have  worried  you  ;  it  was  very  inconsiderate.  Pray 
take  your  own  time  about  that  letter." 

So  she  went  away,  and  passed  around  to  the  other  side  of  the 
rocks,  and  came  in  viev,'  of  the  small  winding  harbor,  and  the 
mill,  and  the  inn.  Far  away  up  there,  over  the  cliffs,  were  the 
downs  on  which  she  had  met  Harry  Trelyon  that  summer  morn- 
ing as  he  rode  by,  singing  in  the  mere  joyousness  of  youth,  and 
liappy  and  pleased  with  all  the  world.  She  could  hear  the  song 
he  was  singing  then ;  she  could  sec  the  sunlight  that  was  shining 
on  his  face.  It  appeared  to  her  to  be  long  ago.  This  girl  was 
but  eighteen  years  of  age,  and  yet,  as  she  Avalked  down  towards 
Eglosilyan  there  was  a  weight  on  her  heart  that  seemed  to  tell 
her  she  was  growing  old. 

And  now  the  western  sky  was  red  with  the  sunset,  and  the  rich 


THROWING    A    FLY.  49 

light  burned  along  the  crests  of  the  hills,  on  the  golden  furze,  the 
purple  heather,  and  the  deep-colored  rocks.  The  world  seemed  all 
ablaze  up  there ;  but  down  here,  as  she  went  by  the  harbor  and 
crossed  over  the  bridge  by  the  mill,  Eglosilyan  lay  pale  and  gray 
in  the  hollow ;  and  even  the  great  black  wheel  was  silent. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THROWING    A    FLY. 

Harry  Trelyon  had  a  cousin  named  Juliott  Penaluna,  Avho 
lived  at  Penzance  with  her  father,  an  irascible  old  clergyman,  who, 
while  yet  a  poor  curate,  had  the  good  fortune  to  marry  Mrs.  Tre- 
lyon's  sister.  Miss  Juliott  was  a  handsome,  healthy,  English-look- 
ing girl,  with  blue  eyes  and  brown  hair,  frank  enough  in  her  ways, 
fairly  well-read,  fond  of  riding  and  driving,  and  very  specially  fond 
of  her  cousin.  There  had  never  been  any  concealment  about  that. 
Master  Harry,  too,  liked  his  cousin  in  a  way,  as  he  showed  by  his 
rudeness  to  her ;  but  he  used  plainly  to  tell  her  that  he  would  not 
marry  her ;  whereupon  she  would  be  angry  with  him  for  his  im- 
pertinence, and  end  by  begging  him  to  be  good  friends  again. 

At  last  she  went,  as  her  mother  had  done  before  her,  and  en- 
couraged the  attentions  of  a  fair,  blue-eyed,  pensive  young  curate, 
one  who  was  full  of  beautiful  enthusiasms  and  idealisms,  in  which 
he  sought  to  interest  the  mind  of  this  exceedingly  practical  young 
woman,  who  liked  cliff-hunting,  and  had  taught  herself  to  swim 
in  the  sea.  Just  before  she  pledged  her  future  to  him  she  wrote 
to  Harry  Trelyon,  plainly  warning  him  of  what  was  going  to  hap- 
pen. In  a  fashion  she  asked  for  his  advice.  It  was  a  timid  letter 
for  her  to  write,  and  she  even  showed  some  sentiment  in  it.  The 
reply,  written  in  a  coarse,  sprawling,  school-boy  hand,  was  as  fol- 
lows: 

"Trelyon  Hall,  Monday  Afternoon. 
"Dear  Jue, — 

"All  right.  You're  a  fool  to  marry  a  parson.  What  would 
you  like  for  a  wedding  present  ? 

"  Affectionately  yours, 

"Harry  Trelyon." 
C 


50  THREE    FEATHERS. 

Posts  don't  go  very  fast  in  Cornwall ;  but  just  as  soon  as  a  let- 
ter from  Penzance  could  reacli  him,  Master  Harry  liad  liis  answer. 
And  it  was  this : 

"Thk  Hollies,  Pexzaxce,  Wednesday. 
"Dear  Harry, — 

"  I  am  glad  to  receive  a  letter  from  you  in  which  there  is  no 
ill-spelling.  There  is  plenty  of  ill-temper,  however,  as  usual.  You 
may  send  your  wedding  presents  to  those  who  care  for  them :  I 
don't.  "JuLiOTT  Pexaluna." 

Master  Harry  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter  when  he  received 
that  letter ;  but,  all  the  same,  he  could  not  get  his  cousin  to  write 
him  a  line  for  months  thereafter.  JN^ow,  however,  she  had  come 
to  visit  some  friends  at  "SVadebridge  ;  and  she  agreed  to  drive  over 
and  join  Mrs.  Trelyon's  little  dinner-party,  to  Avhich  Mr.  Eoscorla 
had  also  been  invited.  Accordingly,  in  the  afternoon,  when  Harry 
Trelyon  was  seated  on  the  stone  steps  outside  the  Hall  door,  en- 
gaged in  making  artificial  flies.  Miss  Penaluna  drove  up  in  a  tiny 
chariot  drawn  by  a  beautiful  little  pair  of  ponies ;  and  when  the 
boy  had  jumped  down  and  gone  to  the  ponies'  heads,  and  when 
she  had  descended  from  the  carriage.  Master  Harry  thought  it  was 
time  for  him  to  lay  aside  his  silk,  rosin,  feathers,  and  what  not, 
and  go  forward  to  meet  her. 

"  How  arc  you,  Jue  ?"  he  said,  offering  to  kiss  her,  as  Avas  his 
custom  ;  "  and  where's  your  young  man  ?" 

She  drew  back,  offended ;  and  then  she  looked  at  him,  and 
shrugged  her  shoulders,  and  gave  him  her  cheek  to  kiss.  He  was 
only  a  boy,  after  all. 

"  Well,  Harry,  I  am  not  going  to  quarrel  with  you,"  she  said, 
with  a  good-natured  smile ;  "  although  I  suppose  I  shall  have 
plenty  of  cause  before  I  go.  Are  you  as  rude  as  ever  ?  Do  you 
talk  as  much  slang  as  ever  ?" 

"  I  like  to  hear  you  talk  of  slang !"  he  said.  "  "Who  calls  her 
ponies  Brandy  and  Soda  ?  "Weren't  you  wild,  Jue,  when  Captain 
TuUiver  came  up  and  said,  ^  Miss  Penaluna,  how  are  your  dear 
Almonds  and  Haisins  T  " 

"  If  I  had  given  him  a  cut  Avith  my  whip,  I  should  have  made 
him  dance,"  said  Miss  Juliott,  frankly ;  "  then  he  would  have  for- 
gotten to  turn  out  his  toes.  Harry,  go  and  see  if  that  boy  has 
taken  in  my  things." 


THROWING    A    FLY.  51 

"  I  won't.  There's  plenty  of  time  ;  and  I  want  to  talk  to  you. 
I  say,  Jue,  wliat  made  you  go  and  get  engaged  down  in  Penzance  ? 
Why  didn't  you  cast  your  eye  in  this  direction  ?" 

"  Well,  of  all  the  impertinent  things  that  I  ever  heard !"  said 
Miss  Juliott,  very  much  inclined  to  box  his  ears.  "  Do  you  think 
I  ever  thought  of  marrying  you  f 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  he  said,  coolly  ;  "  and  you  would  throw  over  that 
parson  in  a  minute,  if  I  asked  you — you  know  you  would,  Jue. 
But  I'm  not  good  enough  for  you." 

"  Indeed,  you  are  not,"  she  said,  with  a  toss  of  the  head.  "  I 
Avould  take  you  for  a  gamekeeper,  but  not  for  a  husband," 

"  Much  need  you'll  have  of  a  gamekeeper,  when  you  become 
^frs.  Tressider  !"  said  he,  with  a  rude  laugh.  "  But  I  didn't  mean 
myself,  Jue.  I  meant  that  if  you  were  going  to  marry  a  parson, 
you  might  have  come  here  and  had  a  choice.  We  can  show  you 
all  sorts  at  this  house  —  fat  and  lean,  steeples  and  beer  -  barrels, 
bandy-legged  and  knock-kneed,  whichever  you  like — you'll  always 
find  an  ample  assortment  on  these  elegant  premises.  The  stock 
is  rather  low  just  now — I  think  we've  only  two  or  three;  but 
you're  supplied  already,  ain't  you,  Jue  ?  Well,  I  never  expected 
it  of  you.  You  were  a  good  sort  of  chap  at  one  time ;  but  I  sup- 
pose you  can't  climb  trees  any  more  now.  There,  I'll  let  you  go 
into  the  house ;  all  the  servants  are  waiting  for  you.  If  you  see 
my  grandmother,  tell  her  she  must  sit  next  mc  at  dinner — if  a 
parson  sits  next  me,  I'll  kill  him." 

Just  as  Miss  Juliott  passed  into  the  Hall,  a  tall,  fair- haired, 
gentle-faced  woman,  dressed  wholly  in  white,  and  stepping  very 
softly  and  silently,  came  down  the  staircase,  so  that,  in  the  twi- 
light, she  almost  appeared  to  be  some  angel  descending  from 
heaven.  She  came  forward  to  her  visitor  with  a  smile  on  the 
pale  and  wistful  face,  and  took  her  hand  and  kissed  her  on  the 
forehead ;  after  which,  and  a  few  words  of  inquiry.  Miss  Penaluna 
was  handed  over  to  the  charge  of  a  maid.  The  tall,  fair  woman 
passed  noiselessly  on,  and  went  into  a  chamber  at  the  farther  end 
of  the  hall,  and  shut  the  door ;  and  presently  the  low,  soft  tones 
of  a  harmonium  were  heard,  appearing  to  come  from  some  con- 
siderable distance,  and  yet  filling  the  house  with  a  melancholy  and 
slumberous  music. 

Surely  it  could  not  be  this  gentle  music  which  brought  to  Mas- 
ter Harry's  face  a  most  un-Christian  scowl  ?     What  harm  could 


52  THREE    FEATHERS. 

there  be  in  a  solitary  widow  wrapping  herself  up  in  her  imagina- 
tive sorrow,  and  saturating  the  whole  of  her  feeble,  impressionable, 
and  withal  kindly  nature  with  a  half-religious,  half-poetic  senti- 
ment ?  What  although  those  days  which  she  devoted  to  services 
in  memory  of  her  relatives  who  were  dead — and,  most  of  all,  in 
memory  of  her  husband  whom  she  had  really  loved — resembled, 
in  some  respects,  the  periods  in  which  an  opium-eater  resolves  to 
give  himself  up  to  the  strange  and  beautiful  sensations  beyond 
which  he  can  imagine  no  form  of  happiness  ?  Mrs.  Trelyon  was 
nothing  of  a  zealot  or  devotee.  She  held  no  particular  doctrines ; 
she  did  not  even  countenance  High-Church  usages,  except  in  so 
far  as  music  and  painting  and  dim  religious  lights  aided  her  en- 
deavors to  produce  a  species  of  exalted  intoxication.  She  did  not 
believe  herself  to  be  a  wicked  sinner,  and  she  could  not  under- 
stand the  earnest  convictions  and  pronounced  theology  of  the 
Dissenters  around  her.  But  she  drank  of  religious  sentiment  as 
other  persons  drink  in  beautiful  music  ;  and  all  the  aids  she  could 
bring  to  bear  in  producing  this  feeling  of  blind  ecstasy  she  had 
collected  together  in  the  private  chapel  attached  to  Trelyon  Hall. 
At  this  very  moment  she  was  seated  there  alone.  The  last  rays 
of  the  sun  shone  through  narrow  windows  of  painted  glass,  and 
carried  beautiful  colors  with  them  into  the  dusk  of  the  curiously 
furnished  little  building.  She  herself  sat  before  a  large  harmo- 
nium, and  there  was  a  stain  of  rose-color  and  of  violet  on  the 
white  silk  costume  that  she  wore.  It  was  one  of  her  notions  that, 
though  black  might  well  represent  the  grief  immediately  follow- 
ing the  funeral  of  one's  friends,  pure  white  was  the  more  appropri- 
ate mourning  when  one  had  become  accustomed  to  their  loss,  and 
liad  turned  one's  eyes  to  the  shining  realms  which  they  inhabit. 
Mrs.  Trelyon  never  wont  out  of  mourning  for  her  husband,  who 
had  been  dead  over  a  dozen  years ;  but  the  mourning  was  of  pure 
white ;  so  that  she  wandered  through  the  large  and  empty  rooms 
of  Trelyon  Hall,  or  about  the  grounds  outside,  like  a  ghost ;  and, 
like  a  ghost,  she  was  ordinarily  silent  and  shy  and  light-footed. 
She  was  not  much  of  a  companion  for  the  rude,  impetuous,  self- 
willed  boy  whoso  education  she  had  handed  over  to  grooms  and 
gamekeepers,  and  to  his  own  very  pronounced  instincts. 

The  frown  that  came  over  the  lad's  handsome  face  as  he  sat 
on  the  door- stop,  resuming  his  task  of  making  trout-flics,  was 
caused  by  the  appearance  of  a  clergyman,  who  came  walking  for- 


THROWING    A    FLY.  53 

ward  from  one  of  the  liidden  paths  in  the  garden.  There  was 
nothing  really  distressing  or  repulsive  about  the  look  of  this 
gentleman ;  although,  on  the  other  hand,  there  was  nothing  very 
attractive.  He  was  of  middle  age  and  middle  height ;  he  wore  a 
rough  brown  beard  and  moustache ;  his  face  was  gray  and  full  of 
lines ;  his  forehead  was  rather  narrow ;  and  his  eyes  were  shrewd 
and  watchful.  But  for  that  occasional  glance  of  the  eyes  you 
would  have  taken  him  for  a  very  ordinary,  respectable,  common- 
place person,  not  deserving  of  notice,  except  for  the  length  of  his 
coat.  When  Master  Harry  saw  him  approach,  however,  a  diabol- 
ical notion  leaped  into  the  young  gentleman's  head.  He  had  been 
practising  the  throwing  of  flies  against  the  wind;  and  on  the 
lawn  were  the  several  pieces  of  paper,  at  different  distances,  at 
which  he  had  aimed,  while  the  slender  trout-rod,  with  a  bit  of 
line  and  a  fly  at  the  end  of  it  still  dangling,  was  close  by  his 
hand.  Instantaneously  he  put  the  rod  against  the  wall,  so  that 
the  hook  was  floating  in  front  of  the  door  just  about  the  height 
of  a  man's  head.  Would  the  Rev.  Mr.  Barnes  look  at  the  door- 
steps, rather  than  in  front  of  him,  in  passing  into  the  house,  and 
so  find  an  artificial  fly  fastened  in  his  nose  ?  Mr.  Barnes  was  no 
such  fool. 

"  It  is  a  pleasant  afternoon,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  he  said,  in  grave  and 
measured  accents,  as  he  came  up. 

Harry  Trelyon  nodded,  as  he  smoothed  out  a  bit  of  red  silk 
thread.  Then  Mr.  Barnes  Avent  forward,  carefully  put  aside  the 
dangling  fly,  and  went  into  the  house. 

"The  fish  won't  rise  to-night,"  said  Master  Harry  to  himself, 
with  a  grin  on  his  face.  "  But  parsons  don't  take  the  fly  readily  ; 
you've  got  to  catch  them  Avitli  bait ;  and  the  bait  they  like  best 
is  a  widow's  mite.  And  now,  I  suppose,  I  must  go  and  dress  for 
dinner ;  and  don't  I  wish  I  was  going  down  to  Mrs.  Rosewarne's 
parlor  instead !" 

But  another  had  secured  a  better  right  to  go  into  Mrs.  Rose- , 
warne's  parlor. 


54  THREE    FEATHERS. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE    AMONG    THE    TAILORS. 

This  otber  gentleman  was  also  dressing  for  Mrs.  Trclyon's  din- 
ner-party, and  lie  was  in  a  pleased  frame  of  mind.  Never  before, 
indeed,  had  Mr.  Roscorla  been  so  distinctly  and  consciously  bappy. 
That  forenoon,  when  bis  anxiety  had  become  almost  distressing 
— partly  because  he  honestly  liked  AVenna  Rosewarne  and  wanted 
to  marry  her,  and  partly  because  he  feared  the  mortification  of  a 
refusal — her  letter  had  come ;  and,  as  he  read  the  trembling,  in- 
genuous, and  not-very-well-composed  lines  and  sentences,  a  great 
feeling  of  satisfaction  stole  over  him,  and  he  thanked  her  a  thou- 
sand times,  in  his  heart,  for  having  given  him  this  relief.  And 
he  was  the  more  pleased  that  it  was  so  easy  to  deal  with  a  writ- 
ten consent.  He  was  under  no  embarrassment  as  to  how  he 
should  express  his  gratitude,  or  as  to  whether  he  ought  to  kiss 
her.  He  could  manage  correspondence  better  than  a  personal  in- 
tendew.  He  sat  down  and  wrote  her  a  very  kind  and  even  affec- 
tionate letter,  telling  her  that  he  would  not  intrude  himself  too 
soon  upon  her,  especially  as  he  had  to  go  up  to  Trelyon  Hall  that 
evening ;  and  saying,  too,  that,  in  any  case,  he  could  never  ex- 
pect to  tell  her  how  thankful  he  was  to  her.  That  she  would  dis- 
cover from  his  conduct  to  her  during  their  married  life. 

But,  to  his  great  surprise,  Mr.  Roscorla  found  that  the  writing 
and  sending  oflE  of  that  letter  did  not  allay  the  extraordinary  ner- 
vous excitement  that  had  laid  hold  of  him.  He  could  not  rest. 
He  called  in  his  housekeeper,  and  rather  astonished  that  elderly 
person  by  saying  he  was  much  pleased  with  her  services,  and 
thereupon  he  presented  her  Avith  a  sovereign  to  buy  a  gown. 
Then  he  went  into  the  garden,  and  meant  to  occupy  himself  with 
his  flowers ;  but  he  found  himself  staring  at  them  without  seeing 
them.  Then  he  went  back  to  his  parlor  and  took  a  glass  of  sher- 
ry to  steady  his  nerves — but  in  vain.  Then  he  thought  he  would 
go  down  to  the  inn,  and  ask  to  see  Wenna ;  but  again  he  changed 
his  mind,  for  how  was  he  to  meet  the  rest  of  the  family  without 


AMONG    THE    TAILORS.  55 


being  prepared  for  the  interview  ?  Probably  be  never  knew  bow 
be  passed  tbese  two  or  tbree  bours ;  but  at  lengtb  tbe  time  came 
for  bim  to  dress  for  dinner. 

And,  as  be  did  so,  tbe  problem  tbat  occupied  bis  mind  was  to 
discover  tbe  probable  reasons  tbat  bad  induced  Wenna  Rosewarne 
to  promise  to  be  bis  wife.  Had  ber  parents  advised  ber  to  marry 
■  a  man  wbo  could  at  least  render  ber  future  safe  ?  Or  bad  sbc 
taken  pity  on  bis  loneliness,  and  been  moved  by  some  bope  of  re- 
forming bis  ways  and  babits  of  tbinking  ?  Or  bad  she  been  won 
over  by  bis  pictures  of  ber  increased  influence  among  tbe  people 
around  ber  ?  He  could  not  tell.  Perbaps,  be  said  to  bimself,  sbe 
said  yes  because  sbe  bad  not  tbe  courage  to  say  no.  Perbaps  sbe 
bad  been  convinced  by  bis  arguments  tbat  tbe  wild  passion  of 
love,  for  wbicb  youth  is  supposed  to  long,  is  a  dangerous  thing ; 
and  was  there  not  constantly  before  ber  eyes  an  example  of  the 
jealousy  and  quarrelling  and  misery  that  may  follow  that  fatal 
delirium  ?  Or  it  might  be — and  here  Mr.  Roscorla  more  nearly 
approached  tbe  truth — tbat  this  shy,  sensitive,  self-distrustful  girl 
bad  been  so  surprised  to  find  herself  of  any  importance  to  any 
one,  and  so  grateful  to  him  for  bis  praise  of  ber,  and  for  this 
highest  mark  of  appreciation  that  a  man  can  bestow,  that  ber 
sudden  gratitude  softened  ber  heart,  and  disposed  her  to  yield  to 
his  prayer.  And  wbo  could  tell  but  tbat  this  present  feeling 
might  lead  to  a  still  warmer  feeling  under  the  generous  influence 
of  a  constant  kindness  and  appreciation  ?  It  was  with  something 
of  wonder  and  almost  of  dismay — and  with  a  wholly  new  sense 
of  bis  own  unwortbiness — that  Mr.  Roscorla  found  himself  regard- 
ing tbe  possibility  of  his  winning  a  young  girl's  first  love. 

Never  before  in  his  life — not  even  in  his  younger  days,  when 
he  had  got  a  stray  bint  tbat  he  would  probably  meet  a  duchess 
and  her  three  daughters  at  a  particular  party — bad  he  dressed 
with  so  much  care.  He  was,  on  the  whole,  well  pleased  with 
himself.  He  had  to  admit  that  his  gray  hair  was  changing  to 
white ;  but  many  people  considered  white  hair,  with  a  hale  com- 
plexion, rather  an  ornament  than  otherwise.  For  tbe  rest,  he  re- 
solved tbat  he  would  never  dress  again  to  go  to  any  party  to 
which  Miss  Wenna  Rosewarne  was  not  also  invited.  He  would 
not  decorate  himself  for  mere  strangers  and  acquaintances. 

He  put  on  a  light  top-coat  and  went  out  into  the  quiet  summer 
evening.     There  was  a  scent  of  roses  in  the  air,  and  tbe  great 


5G  THREE    FEATHERS. 

Atlantic  Avas  beautiful  and  still ;  it  was  a  time  for  lovers  to  be 
walking  through  twilight  woods  or  in  honeysuckle  lanes,  rather 
than  for  a  number  of  people,  indifferent  to  each  other,  to  sit  down 
to  the  vulgar  pleasures  of  the  table.  lie  wished  that  Wenna 
Rosewarne  had  been  of  that  party. 

There  were  two  or  three  children  at  his  gate — bright-cheeked, 
clean,  and  well-clad,  as  all  the  Eglosilyan  children  are — and  when 
they  saw  him  come  out  they  ran  away.  He  was  ashamed  of  this ; 
for,  if  Wenna  had  seen  it,  she  would  have  been  grieved.  He 
called  on  them  to  come  back ;  they  stood  in  the  road,  not  sure  of 
liim.  At  length  a  little  woman  of  six  came  timidly  along  to  him, 
and  looked  at  him  with  her  big,  wondering  blue  eyes,  lie  patted 
her  head  and  asked  her  name,  and  then  he  put  his  hand  in  his 
pocket.  The  others,  finding  that  their  ambassador  had  not  been 
beheaded  on  the  spot,  came  up  also,  and  formed  a  little  circle,  a 
cautious  yard  or  two  off. 

*'  Look  here !"  he  said  to  the  eldest ;  "  here  is  a  shilling,  and 
you  go  and  buy  sweetmeats,  and  divide  them  equally  among  you. 
Or,  wait  a  bit — come  along  with  me,  the  whole  of  you,  and  we'll 
see  whether  Mrs.  Cornish  has  got  any  calce  for  you." 

He  drove  the  fiock  of  them  into  that  lady's  kitchen,  much  to 
her  const*,  rnation,  and  there  he  left  them.  But  he  had  not  got 
half-way  through  the  little  garden  again  before  he  returned,  and 
went  to  the  door  and  called  in  to  the  children — 

"  Mind,  you  can  swing  on  the  gate  whenever  you  like,  so  long 
as  you  take  care  and  don't  hurt  yourselves." 

And  so  he  hurried  away  again ;  and  he  hoped  that  some  day, 
when  he  and  Wenna  Rosewarne  were  passing,  she  would  see  the 
children  swinging  on  his  gate,  and  she  would  be  pleased  that  they 
did  not  run  away. 

"Your  Polly  has  never  been  false,  she  declares — " 

lie  tried  to  hum  the  air,  as  he  had  often  heard  Wenna  hum  it,  as 
he  walked  rapidly  down  the  hill,  and  along  a  bit  of  the  valley, 
and  then  up  one  of  the  great  gorges  lying  behind  Eglosilyan. 
He  had  avoided  the  road  that  went  by  the  inn ;  he  did  not  wish  to 
see  any  of  the  Rosewarnes  just  then.  Moreover,  his  rapid  walk- 
ing was  not  to  save  time,  for  he  had  plenty  of  that ;  but  to  give 
himself  the  proud  assurance  that  lie  was  still  in  excellent  wind. 
Miss  "Vienna  must  not  imagine  that  she  was  marrying  an  old  man. 


AMONG    THE    TAILORS.  57 


Give  him  but  as  good  a  liorse  as  Harry  Trelyon's  famous  Dick, 
and  he  would  ride  that  dare-devil  young  gentleman  for  a  wager 
to  Launceston  and  back.  Why,  he  had  only  arrived  at  that  pe- 
riod when  a  sound  constitution  reaches  its  maturity.  Old,  or 
even  elderly  ?  He  switched  at  weeds  with  his  cane,  and  was  con- 
scious that  he  was  in  the  prime  of  life. 

At  the  same  time,  he  did  not  like  the  notion  of  yoimger  men 
than  himself  lounging  about  Mrs.  Rosewarne's  parlor;  and  he 
thought  he  might  just  as  well  give  Harry  Trelyon  a  hint  that 
"Wenna  Rosewarne  was  engaged.  An  excellent  opportunity  was 
offered  him  at  this  moment,  for  as  he  went  up  through  the  grounds 
to  the  front  of  the  Hall  he  found  Master  Harry  industriously 
throwing  a  fly  at  certain  bits  of  paper  on  the  lawn.  He  had  re- 
sumed this  occupation,  after  having  gone  inside  and  dressed,  as  a 
handy  method  of  passing  the  time  until  his  cousin  Juliott  should 
appear. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Trelyon  ?"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  in  a  friendly 
way ;  and  Harry  nodded.  "  I  wish  I  could  throw  a  fly  like  you. 
By  the  bye,  I  have  a  little  bit  of  news  for  you — for  yourself  alone, 
mind." 

"All  right;  fire  away,"  said  Master  Harry,  still  making  the 
fine  line  of  the  trout-rod  whistle  through  the  air. 

"  Well,  it  is  rather  a  delicate  matter,  you  know.  I  don't  want 
it  talked  about ;  but  the  fact  is,  I  am  going  to  marry  Miss  Rose- 
warne." 

There  was  no  more  aiming  at  those  bits  of  paper.  The  tall 
and  handsome  lad  turned  and  stared  at  his  companion  as  if  the 
latter  had  been  a  maniac  ;  and  then  he  said — 

"  Miss  Rosewarne  ?     Wenna  Roscwarne  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  distinctly  conscious  that  Harry  Tre- 
lyon was  regarding  his  white  hair  and  general  appearance. 

The  younger  man  said  nothing  more,  but  began  to  whistle  in 
an  absent  way ;  and  then,  just  as  if  Mr.  Roscorla  had  no  existence 
whatever,  he  proceeded  to  reel  in  the  line  of  his  rod,  he  fastened 
the  fly  to  one  of  the  rings,  and  then  walked  off. 

"  You'll  find  my  mother  inside,"  he  said ;  and  so  Mr.  Roscorla 
went  into  the  Hall,  and  was  soon  in  Mrs.  Trelyon's  drawing-room, 
among  her  six  or  eight  guests. 

Harry  Trelyon  did  not  appear  until  dinner  was  announced; 
and  then  he  was  just  in  time  to  take  his  grandmother  in.     lie 

C2 


58  THREE    FEATHERS, 

took  care,  also,  to  have  liis  cousin  Jiiliott  on  his  other  side ;  and 
to  both  of  these  Ladies  it  was  soon  apparent  that  something  had 
occurred  to  put  Master  Harry  into  one  of  his  most  ungovernable 
moods. 

"  Harry  ?"  said  his  mother,  from  the  other  end  of  the  table,  as 
an  intimation  that  he  should  say  grace. 

There  was  no  response,  despite  Miss  Juliott's  appealing  look ; 
and  so  Mrs.  Trelyon  had  to  turn  for  assistance  to  one  of  the  cler- 
gymen near  her,  Avho  went  through  the  prescribed  form. 

"  Isn't  it  shocking  ?"  said  Miss  Penaluna,  across  the  table,  to 
Harry's  grandmother,  who  was  not  nearly  so  severe  on  him  for 
such  conduct  as  she  ought  to  have  been. 

"  Grace  before  meat  takes  too  much  for  granted,"  said  the 
young  man,  unconcernedly.  "  How  can  you  tell  whether  you  are 
thankful  until  you  see  what  sort  of  dinner  it  is  ?  And  what's  the 
use  of  keeping  a  dog  and  barking  yourself?  Ain't  there  three 
parsons  down  there  ?" 

!Miss  Juliott,  being  engaged  to  a  clergyman,  very  naturally  re- 
sented this  language ;  and  the  two  cousins  had  rather  a  stormy 
fight,  at  the  end  of  which  Master  Harry  turned  to  his  grand- 
mother and  declared  that  she  was  the  only  Avoman  of  common- 
sense  he  had  ever  known. 

"Well,  it  runs  in  the  blood,  Harry,"  said  the  old  lady,  "that 
dislike  to  clergymen ;  and  I  never  could  find  out  any  reason  for 
it,  except  when  your  grandfather  hunted  poor  Mr.  Pascoe  that 
night.  Dear,  dear!  what  a  jealous  man  your  grandfather  was, 
to  be  sure;  and  the  way  he  used  to  pet  me  when  I  told  him  I 
never  saw  the  man  I'd  look  at  after  seeing  him.  Dear,  dear ! — 
and  the  day  he  sold  those  two  manors  to  the  Company,  you  know, 
he  came  back  at  night  and  said  I  was  as  good  a  wife  as  any  in 
England  —  he  did,  indeed  —  and  the  bracelet  he  gave  me  then, 
that  shall  go  to  your  wife  on  your  wedding-day,  Harry,  I  promise 
you,  and  you  won't  find  its  match  about  this  part  of  the  country, 
I  can  tell  you.  But  don't  you  go  and  sell  the  lordship  of  Trelyon. 
Many  a  time  your  grandfather  was  asked  to  sell  it,  and  he  did 
well  by  selling  the  other  two ;  but  Trelyon  he  would  never  sell, 
nor  your  father,  and  I  hope  you  won't  either,  Harry.  Let  them 
work  the  quarries  for  you — that  is  fair  enough — and  give  you 
your  royalty ;  but  don't  part  with  Trelyon,  Harry,  for  you  might 
as  AYcU  be  parting  with  your  own  name." 


AMONG    THE    TAILORS.  59 


"  Well,  I  can't,  grandmother,  j^ou  know ;  but  I  am  fearfully  in 
want  of  a  big  lump  of  money,  all  the  same." 

"Money?  what  do  you  want  with  a  lot  of  money?  You're 
not  going  to  take  to  gambling  or  horse-racing,  are  you  ?" 

"  I  can't  tell  you  what  I  want  it  for — not  at  present,  anyway," 
said  the  lad,  looking  rather  gloomy ;  and  with  that  the  subject 
dropped,  and  a  brief  silence  ensued  at  that  end  of  the  table. 

Mr.  Tressider,  however,  the  mild  and  amiable  young  curate  to 
whom  Miss  Juliott  was  engaged,  having  been  rather  left  out  in 
the  cold,  struck  in  at  this  moment,  blushing  slightly : 

"  I  heard  you  say  something  about  lordships  of  manors,"  he 
observed,  addressing  himself  rather  to  Trelyon's  grandmother. 
"Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  what  a  powerful  thing  a  word  from 
William  the  Conqueror  must  have  been,  when  it  could  give  to  a 
particular  person  and  his  descendants  absolute  possession  of  a 
piece  of  the  globe?" 

Mrs.  Trelyon  stared  at  the  young  man.  Had  a  relative  of  hers 
gone  and  engaged  herself  to  a  dangerous  Eevolutionary,  who,  in 
the  guise  of  a  priest,  dared  to  trifle  with  the  tenure  of  land? 
Mr.  Tressider  was  as  innocent  of  any  such  intention  as  the  babe 
unborn ;  but  he  was  confused  by  her  look  of  astonishment,  he 
blushed  more  violently  than  before,  and  only  escaped  from  his 
embarrassment  by  the  good  services  of  Miss  Penaluna,  who  turned 
the  whole  matter  into  ridicule,  and  asked  what  William  the  Con- 
queror was  about  Avhen  he  let  a  piece  of  the  Avorld  come  into  the 
hands  of  Harry  Trelyon. 

"  And  how  deep  down  have  you  a  hold  on  it,  Harry  ?"  she  said. 
"  How  far  does  your  right  over  the  minerals  extend  ?  From  the 
surface  right  down  to  the  centre  ?" 

Mr.  Tressider  was  smiling  vaguely  when  Master  Harry's  eye  fell 
upon  him.  What  harm  had  the  young  clergyman,  or  any  other 
clergyman  present,  done  him,  that  he  should  have  felt  a  sudden 
dislike  to  that  ingenuous  smile  ? 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Trelyon,  with  a  careless  impertinence  ;  "  William 
the  Conqueror  did  not  allow  the  rights  of  the  lord  of  the  manor 
to  extend  right  down  to  the  middle  of  the  earth.  There  were  a 
good  many  clergymen  about  him,  and  they  reserved  that  district 
for  their  own  purposes," 

"  Harry,"  said  his  cousin  to  him,  in  a  low  voice ;  "  is  it  your 
wish  to  insult  me?     If  so,  I  will  leave  the  room." 


60  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  Insult  you  !"  he  said,  with  a  laugh.  "  Why,  Jue,  you  must 
be  out  of  your  senses.  What  concern  have  you  in  that  warmish 
region  ?" 

"  I  don't  appreciate  jokes  on  such  subjects.  My  father  is  a 
clergyman,  my  husband  will  be  a  clergyman — " 

"  SVorse  luck  for  you,"  he  observed  frankly,  but  so  that  no  one 
could  hear. 

"  Harry,"  she  said,  "  what  do  you  mean  by  your  dislike  to  cler- 
gymen ?" 

*'  Is  that  a  conundrum  ?"  said  the  unregenerate  youth. 

For  a  moment  Miss  Penaluna  seemed  really  vexed  and  angry ; 
but  she  happened  to  look  at  Master  Harry,  and,  somehow,  her 
displeasure  subsided  into  a  look  of  good-natured  resignation. 
There  was  the  least  little  shrug  of  the  shoulders;  and  then  she 
turned  to  her  neighbor  on  the  right,  and  began  to  talk  about 
ponies. 

It  was  certainly  not  a  pleasant  dinner-party  for  those  who  sat 
near  this  young  gentleman,  who  was  more  outrageously  capricious 
than  ever,  except  when  addressing  his  grandmother,  to  whom  he 
was  always  courteous,  and  even  roughly  affectionate.  That  old 
lady  eyed  him  nari'owly,  and  could  not  quite  make  out  what  was 
the  matter.  Had  he  been  privately  engaged  in  some  betting 
transaction  that  he  should  want  this  money  ? 

When  the  ladies  left  the  room,  Trelyon  asked  Mr.  ROscorla  to 
take  his  place  for  a  few  minutes,  and  send  round  the  wines ;  and 
then  he  went  out  and  called  his  mother  aside  into  the  study. 

"  Mother,"  he  said,  "  Mr.  Roscorla  is  going  to  marry  Wenna 
Rosewarne." 

The  tall,  fair,  pale  lady  did  not  seem  much  startled  by  the 
news.  She  had  very  little  acquaintance  with  the  affairs  of  the 
village ;  but  she  knew  at  least  that  the  Rosewarnes  kept  the  inn, 
and  she  had,  every  Sunday  morning  seen  Mrs.  Rosewarne  and  her 
two  daughters  come  into  church. 

"  That  is  the  elder  one,  is  it  not,  who  sings  in  the  choir?" 

"  It's  the  elder  one,"  said  Master  Harry,  who  knew  less  about 
the  choir. 

"  It  is  a  strange  choice  for  Mr.  Roscorla  to  make,"  she  ob- 
served. "  I  have  always  considered  him  very  fastidious,  and  rath- 
er proud  of  his  family.  But  some  men  take  strange  fancies  in 
choosing  a  wife." 


THE    AMONG    THE    TAILORS.  61 

"  Yes,  and  some  women  take  precious  strange  fancies  in  choos- 
ing a  husband,"  said  the  young  man,  rather  warmly,  "  Why, 
she's  worth  twenty  dozen  of  him.  I  don't  know  what  the  dick- 
ens made  her  listen  to  the  old  fool — it  is  a  monstrous  shame, 
that's  what  I  call  it.  I  suppose  he's  frightened  the  girl  into  it, 
or  bought  over  her  father,  or  made  himself  a  hypocrite,  and  got 
some  person  to  intercede  and  scheme  and  tell  lies  for  him." 

"  Harry,"  said  his  mother,  "I  don't  understand  why  you  should 
interest  yourself  in  the  matter." 

"  Oh !  well,  it's  only  this — that  I  consider  that  girl  to  be  the 
best  sort  of  woman  I've  met  yet — that's  all ;  and  I'll  tell  you 
what  I  mean  to  do,  mother — I  mean  to  give  her  five  thousand 
pounds,  so  that  she  sha'n't  come  to  that  fellow  in  a  dependent 
way,  and  let  him  give  himself  airs  over  her  because  he's  been 
born  a  gentleman." 

"  Five  thousand  pounds  !"  Mrs.  Trelyon  repeated,  wondering 
whether  her  son  had  drunk  too  much  wine  at  dinner. 

"  Well,  but  look  here,  mother,"  he  said,  quite  prepared  for  her 
astonishment.  "  You  know  I've  spent  very  little — I've  never 
spent  anything  like  what  I'm  entitled  to ;  and  next  year  I  shall 
be  of  age ;  and  all  I  want  now  is  for  you  to  help  me  to  get  a  re- 
lease, you  know ;  and  I  am  sure  I  shall  be  able  to  persuade 
Colonel  Ransome  to  it,  for  he'll  see  it  is  not  any  bit  of  extrav- 
agance on  my  part — speculation,  or  anything  of  that  sort,  you 
know — " 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  Mrs.  Trelyon,  startled,  for  once,  into 
earnestness,  "  you  will  make  people  believe  you  are  mad.  To 
give  five  thousand  pounds  to  the  daughter  of  an  innkeeper,  a  per- 
fect stranger,  as  a  marriage  dowry — why,  Harry,  what  do  you 
think  people  would  say  of  such  a  thing  ?  What  would  they  say 
of  her  ?" 

He  looked  puzzled  for  a  moment,  as  tholigh  he  did  not  under- 
stand her.  It  was  but  for  a  moment.  "  If  you  mean  what  one 
of  those  parsons  would  say  of  her,"  he  said,  impetuously,  while  a 
sudden  flash  of  anger  sprang  to  his  face,  "  I  don't  care  ;  but  my 
answer  to  it  would  be  to  kick  him  around  the  grounds  and  out  at 
the  gate.  Do  you  think  I'd  care  a  brass  farthing  for  anything 
these  cringing  sneaks  might  say  of  her,  or  of  me,  or  of  anybody  ? 
And  would  they  dare  to  say  it  if  you  asked  her  here,  and  made  a 
friend  of  her?" 


62  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  ^lake  a  friend  of  her !"  repeated  Mrs.  Trelyon,  almost  mc- 
clianically.  She  did  not  know  wliat  length  this  terrible  son  of 
hers  might  not  go. 

"  If  she  is  going  to  marry  a  friend  of  yours,  ■why  not  ?" 

"  Ilarry,  you  are  most  unreasonable — if  you  -will  think  it  over 
for  a  moment,  you  will  see  how  this  is  impossible.  If  Mr.  Ros- 
corla  marries  this  girl,  that  is  his  own  affair ;  he  will  have  society 
enough  at  home,  without  wishing  to  go  out  and  dine.  He  is  do- 
ing it  with  his  eyes  open,  you  may  be  sure :  he  has  far  more 
knowledge  of  such  affairs  than  you  can  have.  How  could  I  sin- 
gle out  this  girl  from  her  family  to  make  her  a  friend  ?  I  should 
have  to  ask  her  parents  and  her  sister  to  come  here  also,  unless 
you  wish  her  to  come  on  sufferance,  and  throw  a  reflection  on 
them." 

She  spoke  quite  calmly,  but  he  would  not  listen  to  her.  He 
chafed  and  fidgeted,  and  said,  as  soon  as  she  had  finished — 

"  You  could  do  it  very  well,  if  you  liked.  When  a  woman  is 
willing  she  can  always  smooth  matters  down." 

Mrs.  Trelyon  flushed  slightly,  and  said,  with  clear  emphasis — 

"I  presume  that  I  am  best  fitted  to  say  what  society  I  shall 
keep ;  and  I  shall  have  no  acquaintance  thrust  upon  me  whom  I 
would  rather  not  recognize." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  said  the  lad,  with  the  proud  lips  giving  evi- 
dence of  some  sudden  decision.  "  And  you  won't  help  me  to  get 
that  five  thousand  pounds  ?" 

"  I  will  not.     I  will  not  countenance  any  such  folly." 

"  Then  I  shall  have  to  raise  the  money  myself." 

He  rang  a  bell,  and  a  servant  appeared, 

"  Tell  Jakes  to  saddle  Dick  and  bring  him  around  directly." 

His  mother  let  him  have  his  own  way,  without  word  or  ques- 
tion ;  for  she  was  deeply  offended,  and  her  feeble  and  sensitive 
nature  had  risen  in  protest  against  his  tyranny.  He  went  off  to 
put  on  a  pair  of  riding-boots  and  a  top-coat ;  and  by  and  by  he 
came  down  into  the  hall  again,  and  went  to  the  door.  The  night 
was  dark,  but  clear ;  there  was  a  blaze  of  stars  overhead  ;  all  the 
world  seemed  to  be  quivering  with  those  white  throbs  of  fire. 
The  horse  and  groom  stood  at  the  door,  their  dusky  figures  being 
scarcely  blacker  than  the  trees  and  bushes  around.  Harry  Tre- 
lyon buttoned  up  the  collar  of  his  light  top-coat,  took  his  switch 
in  his  hand,  and  sprung  into  the  saddle.     At  the  same  moment 


SOME    NEW    EXPERIENCES.  63 

the  white  figure  of  a  lady  suddenly  appeared  at  the  door,  and 
came  down  a  step  or  two,  and  said — 

"  Harry,  where  are  you  going  ?" 

"  To  Plymouth  first,"  the  young  man  answered,  as  he  rode  off, 
"  to  London  afterwards,  and  then  to  the  devil !" 


CHAPTER  VH. 

SOME    NEW    EXPERIENCES. 


When  the  first  shock  of  fear  and  anxiety  was  over,  Wenna 
Roscwarne  discovered  to  her  great  delight  that  her  engagement 
was  a  very  pleasant  thing.  The  ominous  doubts  and  regrets  that 
liad  beset  her  mind  when  she  was  asked  to  become  Mr.  Roscorla's 
wife  seemed  to  disappear  like  clouds  from  a  morning  sky ;  and 
then  followed  a  fair  and  happy  day,  full  of  abundant  satisfaction 
and  calm.  With  much  inward  ridicule  of  her  own  vanity,  she 
found  herself  nursing  a  notion  of  her  self-importance,  and  giving 
herself  airs  as  if  she  were  already  a  married  woman.  Although 
the  engagement  was  kept  a  profound  secret,  the  mere  conscious- 
ness that  she  had  attained  to  this  position  in  the  world  lent  a  new 
assurance  to  her  as  she  went  about  the  village.  She  was  gifted 
with  a  new  authority  over  despondent  mothers  and  fractious 
children  and  selfish  fathers  as  she  went  her  daily  rounds ;  and 
even  in  her  own  home  Wenna  had  more  attention  paid  to  her, 
now  that  she  was  going  to  marry  Mr.  Roscorla. 

There  was  but  one  dissentient,  and  that  was  Mabyn  Rosewarne, 
who  fumed  and  fretted  about  the  match,  and  sometimes  was  like 
to  cry  over  it,  and  at  other  times  grew  vastly  indignant,  and  would 
have  liked  to  have  gone  and  given  Mr.  Roscorla  a  bit  of  her  mind. 
She  pitied  her  poor  weak  sister  for  having  been  coaxed  into  an 
engagement  by  this  designing  old  man ;  and  the  poor  weak  sister 
was  vastly  amused  by  her  compassion,  and  was  too  good-natured 
to  laugh  at  the  valiant  protection  which  tliis  courageous  young 
creature  of  sixteen  offered  her.  Wenna  let  her  sister  say  what 
she  pleased  about  herself  or  her  future,  and  used  no  other  argu- 
ment to  stop  angry  words  than  a  kiss,  so  long  as  Mabyn  spoke 
respectfully  of  Mr.  Roscorla.     But  this  was  precisely  what  Miss 


64  THREE  FEATHERS. 

Mabyn  was  disinclined  to  do  ;  and  the  consequence  was  tliat  their 
interviews  were  generally  ended  by  "Wenna  becoming  indignant, 
drawing  herself  up,  and  leaving  the  room.  Then  Mabyn  would 
follow,  and  make  up  the  quarrel,  and  promise  never  to  offend 
again  ;  but  all  the  same  she  cherished  a  deadly  animosity  towards 
Mr.  Roscorla  in  her  heart,  and,  when  her  sister  was  not  present, 
she  amused  her  father  and  shocked  her  mother  by  giving  a  series 
of  imitations  of  Mr.  Roscorla's  manner  which  that  gentleman 
would  scarcely  like  to  have  seen. 

The  young  lady,  however,  soon  invented  what  she  considered 
a  far  more  effectual  means  of  revenging  herself  on  Mr.  Roscorla. 
She  never  leftWenna's  side.  No  sooner  did  the  eldest  sister  pre- 
pare to  go  out,  than  Miss  Mabyn  discovered  that  slie  too  would 
like  a  walk ;  and  she  so  persistently  did  this  that  AYenna  soon 
took  it  for  granted  that  her  sister  would  go  with  her  wherever 
she  went,  and  invariably  waited  for  her.  Accordingly  Mr.  Ros- 
corla never  by  any  chance  went  walking  with  AVenna  Rosewarne 
alone ;  and  the  younger  sister — herself  too  sulky  to  enter  into 
conversation  with  him — used  to  enjoy  the  malicious  pleasure  of 
watching  him  shape  his  talk  to  suit  the  presence  of  a  third  per- 
son. For  of  course  Miss  Mabyn  had  read  in  books  of  the  beauti- 
ful manner  in  which  lovers  speak  to  each  other,  and  of  their  ten- 
der confidences  as  they  sit  by  the  sea  or  go  rambling  through  the 
summer  woods.  "Was  not  the  time  opportune  for  these  idyllic 
ways  ?  All  the  uplands  were  yellowed  with  tall-standing  corn  ; 
the  sea  was  as  blue  and  as  still  as  the  sky  overhead ;  the  gardens 
of  Eglosilyan  were  sweet  with  honeysuckle  and  moss-roses,  and  in 
the  evenings  a  pale  pink  mist  hung  around  the  horizon,  while  the 
silver  sickle  of  the  moon  came  up  into  the  violet  sky,  and  the  first 
pale  stars  appeared  in  tlie  cast. 

"  If  our  Wenna  had  a  proper  sort  of  lover,"  Miss  Mabyn  used 
to  say  to  herself,  bitterly,  "  wouldn't  I  scheme  to  have  them  left 
alone !  I  would  watch  for  them  like  a  watch-dog  that  no  one 
should  come  near  them,  and  I  should  be  as  proud  of  him  as  Wen- 
na herself ;  and  how  happy  she  would  be  in  talking  to  me  about 
him  !  But  this  horrid  old  wretch — I  wish  he  would  fall  over 
Black  Cliff  some  day !" 

She  was  not  aware  that,  in  becoming  the  constant  companion 
of  her  sister,  she  was  affording  this  dire  enemy  of  hers  a  vast 
amount  of  relief.     Mr.  Roscorla  was  in  every  way  satisfied  with 


SOME    NEW    EXPERIENCES.  65 

his  engagement ;  tte  more  he  saw  of  Wenna  Kosewarno,  the  more 
he  admired  her  utter  self-forgetfulness,  and  liked  a  quaint  and  shy 
sort  of  humor  that  interfused  her  talk  and  her  ways ;  but  he  greatly 
preferred  not  to  be  alone  with  her.  He  was  then  beset  by  some 
vague  impression  that  certain  things  were  demanded  of  him,  in 
the  character  of  a  lover,  which  were  exceedingly  embarrassing ; 
and  which,  if  he  did  not  act  the  part  well,  might  awaken  her  rid- 
icule. On  the  other  hand,  if  he  omitted  all  those  things,  might 
she  not  be  surprised  by  his  lack  of  affection,  begin  to  suspect  him, 
and  end  by  disliking  him?  Yet  he  knew  that  not  for  ten  thou- 
sand worlds  could  he  muster  up  courage  to  repeat  one  line  of  sen- 
timental poetry  to  her. 

As  yet  he  had  never  even  had  the  courage  to  kiss  her.  He 
knew  that  this  Avas  wrong.  In  his  own  house  he  reflected  that  a 
man  engaged  to  a  woman  ought  surely  to  give  her  some  such 
mark  of  affection — say,  in  bidding  her  good-night ;  and  there- 
upon Mr.  Roscorla  would  resolve  that  as  he  left  the  inn  that 
evening  he  would  endeavor  to  kiss  his  future  bride.  He  never 
succeeded.  Somehow  Wenna  always  parted  from  him  in  a  merry 
mood.  These  were  pleasant  evenings  in  Mrs.  Rosewarne's  parlor ; 
there  was  a  good  deal  of  quiet  fun  going  on  ;  and  if  Wenna  did 
come  along  the  passage  to  the  door  with  him,  she  was  generally 
talking  and  laughing  all  the  way.  Of  course  he  was  not  going  to 
kiss  her  in  that  mood — as  if,  to  use  his  own  expression,  he  had 
been  a  jocular  ploughboy. 

He  had  kissed  her  hand  once.  That  was  on  his  first  meeting 
her  after  she  had  written  the  letter  in  which  she  promised  to  be 
his  wife,  and  Mrs.  Rosewarne  had  sent  him  into  the  room  where  she 
knew  her  daughter  was  alone.  Wenna  rose  up  to  meet  him,  pale, 
frightened,  with  her  eyes  downcast.  He  took  her  hand  and  kiss- 
ed it ;  and  then,  after  a  pause,  he  said,  "  I  hope  I  shall  make  you 
happy."  She  could  not  answer.  She  began  to  tremble  violently. 
He  asked  her  to  sit  down,  and  begged  of  her  not  to  be  disturbed. 
She  was  recalled  to  herself  by  the  accidental  approach  of  her  sis- 
ter Mabyn,  Avho  came  along  the  passage,  singing,  "  Oh,  the  men 
of  merry,  merry  England,"  in  excellent  imitation  of  the  way  in 
which  Harry  Trelyon  used  to  sing  that  once  famous  song  as  he 
rode  his  black  horse  along  the  highways.  Mabyn  came  into  the 
room,  stared,  and  would  have  gone  out,  but  that  her  sister  called 
to  her  and  asked  her  to  come  and  hold  down  a  pattern  while  she 


66  THREE    FEATHERS. 

cut  some  cloth.  Mabyn  wondered  that  her  sister  should  be  so 
diligent  when  a  visitor  was  present.  She  saw,  too,  that  Wenna's 
fino-ers  trembled.  Then  she  remained  in  the  room  until  Mr.  Ros- 
corla  went,  sitting  by  a  window  and  not  overhearing  their  conver- 
sation, but  very  much  inclined  to  break  in  upon  it  by  asking  him 
how  he  dared  to  come  there  and  propose  to  marry  her  sister 
Wenna. 

"  Oh,  Wenna,"  she  said,  one  evening  some  time  after,  when  the 
two  sisters  were  sitting  out  on  the  rocks  at  the  end  of  the  harbor, 
watching  the  sun  go  down  behind  the  sea,  "  I  cannot  bear  him 
coming  to  take  you  away  like  that.  I  shouldn't  mind  if  he  were 
like  a  sweetheart  to  you ;  but  he's  a  multiplication-table  sort  of 
sweetheart — everything  so  regular  and  accurate  and  proper.  I  hate 
a  man  who  always  thinks  what  he's  going  to  say,  and  always  has 
neat  sentences ;  and  he  watches  you,  and  is  so  self-satisfied,  and 
his  information  is  always  so  correct.  Oh,  Wenna,  I  wish  you  had 
a  young  and  beautiful  lover,  like  a  Prince  !" 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  the  elder  sister,  with  a  smile,  "  young  and 
beautiful  lovers  are  for  young  and  beautiful  girls,  like  you." 

"  Oh,  Wenna,  how  can  you  talk  like  that !"  said  the  younger 
sister;  "  why  will  you  always  believe  that  you  are  less  pretty  than 
other  people,  when  every  one  knows  that  you  have  the  most  beau- 
tiful eyes  in  all  the  world.  You  have  I  There's  not  anybody  in 
all  the  world  has  such  beautiful  and  soft  eyes  as  you — you  ask 
anybody  and  they  Avill  tell  you,  if  you  don't  believe  me.  But  I 
have  no  doubt — I  have  no  doubt  whatever — that  Mr.  Roscorla  will 
try  to  make  you  believe  that  you  are  very  ugly,  so  that  you  mayn't 
think  you've  thrown  yourself  away." 

Miss  Mabyn  looked  very  indignant,  and  very  much  inclined  to 
cry  at  the  same  time ;  but  the  gentle  sister  put  her  hand  on  hers, 
and  said — 

"  You  will  make  me  quarrel  with  you  some  day,  Mabyn,  if  you 
are  so  unjust  to  Mr.  Roscorla.  You  are  continually  accusing  him 
of  things  of  which  he  never  dreams.  Now  he  never  gets  a  chance 
that  he  does  not  try  to  praise  me  in  every  way,  and  if  there  Averc 
no  looking-glasses  in  the  world  I  have  no  doubt  he  would  make 
me  believe  I  was  quite  lovely ;  and  you  shouldn't  say  those  things 
of  him,  Mabyn — it  isn't  fair.  lie  always  speaks  kindly  of  you. 
He  thinks  you  are  very  pretty,  and  that  you  will  grow  up  to  be 
very  beautiful  when  you  become  a  woman." 


SOME    NEW    EXPERIENCES.  67 

Mabyn  was  not  to  be  pacified  by  this  ingenuous  piece  of  flattery. 

"  You  are  such  a  simpleton,  Wenna,"  she  said,  "  he  can  make 
you  beUeve  anything." 

"He  does  not  try  to  make  me  believe  anything  I  don't  know 
already,"  said  the  elder  sister,  with  some  asperity. 

"  He  tries  to  make  you  believe  he  is  in  love  with  you,"  said 
Mabyn,  bluntly. 

Wenna  Rosewarne  colored  up,  and  was  silent  for  a  minute. 
How  was  she  to  explain  to  this  sister  of  hers  all  those  theories 
which  Mr.  Roscorla  had  described  to  her  in  his  first  two  or  three 
letters?  She  felt  that  she  had  not  the  same  gift  of  expression 
that  he  had. 

"  You  don't  understand — you  don't  understand  at  all,  Mabyn, 
what  you  talk  of  as  love.  I  suppose  you  mean  the  sort  of  wild 
madness  you  read  of  in  books ;  well,  I  don't  want  that  kind  of 
love  at  all.  There  is  a  qfiite  different  sort  of  love,  that  comes  of  re- 
spect and  affection  and  an  agreement  of  wishes,  and  that  is  far  more 
valuable  and  likely  to  be  lasting.  I  don't  want  a  lover  who  would 
do  wild  things,  and  make  one  wonder  at  his  heroism,  for  that  is 
the  lover  you  get  in  books ;  but  if  you  want  to  live  a  happy  life, 
and  please  those  around  you,  and  be  of  service  to  them,  you  must 
have  a  very  different  sort  of  sweetheart — a  man  who  will  think  of 
something  else  than  a  merely  selfish  passion,  who  will  help  you  to 
be  kind  to  other  people,  and  whose  affection  will  last  through 
years  and  years." 

"  You  have  learned  your  lesson  very  well,"  said  Miss  Mabyn, 
with  a  toss  of  her  head.  "  He  has  spent  some  time  in  teaching 
you.  But  as  for  all  that,  Wenna,  it's  nothing  but  fudge.  What 
a  girl  wants  is  to  be  really  loved  by  a  man,  and  then  she  can  do 
without  all  those  fine  sentiments.     As  for  Mr.  Roscorla — " 

"  I  do  not  think  we  are  likely  to  agree  on  this  matter,  dear," 
said  AVenna,  calmly,  as  she  rose,  "  and  so  we  had  better  say  noth- 
ing about  it." 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  going  to  quarrel  with  you,  AVenna,"  said  the 
younger  sister,  promptly.  "  You  and  I  will  always  agree  very 
well.  It  is  Mr.  Roscorla  and  I  who  are  not  likely  to  agree  very 
well — not  at  all  likely,  I  can  assure  you." 

They  were  walking  back  to  Eglosilyan,  under  the  clear  evening 
skies,  when  whom  should  they  see  coming  out  to  meet  them  but 
Mr.  Roscorla  himself.     It  was  a  pleasant  time  and  place  for  lovers 


68  THREE    FEATHERS. 

to  come  together.  The  warm  light  left  by  the  sunset  still  shone 
across  the  hills ;  the  clear  blue-green  Avater  in  the  tiny  harbor  lay 
perfectly  still ;  Eglosilyan  had  got  its  day's  work  over,  and  was 
either  chatting  in  the  cottage  gardens  or  strolling  down  to  have  a 
look  at  the  couple  of  coasters  moored  behind  the  small  but  pow- 
erful breakwater.  But  Mr,  Roscorla  had  had  no  hope  of  discov- 
ering Wenna  alone ;  lie  was  quite  as  well  content  to  find  Mabyn 
with  her,  though  that  young  lady,  as  he  came  up,  looked  particu- 
larly fierce,  and  did  not  smile  at  all  when  she  shook  hands  with 
him.  "Was  it  the  red  glow  in  the  west  that  gave  an  extra  tinge 
of  color  to  Mr.  Roscorla's  face  ?  "Wenna  felt  that  she  was  better 
satisfied  with  her  engagement  when  her  lover  was  not  present; 
but  she  put  that  down  to  a  natural  shyness  and  modesty  which 
she  considered  was  probably  common  to  all  girls  in  these  strange 
circumstances. 

Mr.  Roscorla  wished  to  convoy  the  tito  young  ladies  back  to 
the  inn,  and  evidently  meant  to  spend  the  evening  there.  But 
Miss  "Wenna  ill  requited  his  gallantry  by  informing  him  that  she 
had  intended  to  make  one  or  two  calls  in  the  evening,  which 
would  occupy  some  time :  in  particular,  she  had  undertaken  to 
do  something  for  Mrs.  Luke's  eldest  girl ;  and  she  had  also  prom- 
ised to  go  in  and  read  for  half  an  hour  to  Nicholas  Keam,  the 
brother  of  the  wife  of  the  owner  of  the  Napoleon  Hotel,  who  was 
very  ill  indeed,  and  far  too  languid  to  read  for  himself. 

"  But  you  know,  Mr.  Roscorla,"  said  Mabyn,  with  a  bitter  mal- 
ice, "  if  you  would  go  into  the  Napoleon  and  read  to  Mr.  Keam, 
"Wenna  and  I  could  go  up  to  Mother  Luke's,  and  so  we  should 
save  all  that  time,  and  I  am  sure  Wenna  is  very  tired  to-day. 
Then  you  would  be  so  much  better  able  to  pick  out  the  things  in 
the  papers  that  Mr.  Keam  wants ;  for  "Wenna  never  knows  what 
is  old  and  what  is  new,  and  Mr.  Keam  is  anxious  to  learn  what  is 
going  on  in  politics,  and  the  Irish  Church,  and  that  kind  of  thing." 

Could  he  refuse  ?  Surely  a  man  who  has  just  got  a  girl  to  say 
she  will  marry  him  ought  not  to  think  twice  about  sacrificing  half 
an  hour  to  helping  her  in  her  occupations,  especially  if  she  be 
tired.  AYenna  could  not  have  made  the  request  herself ;  but  she 
was  anxious  that  he  should  say  yes,  now  it  had  been  made,  for  it 
was  in  a  manner  a  test  of  his  devotion  to  her ;  and  she  was  over- 
joyed and  most  grateful  to  liim  when  he  consented.  What  Ma- 
byn thought  of  the  matter  was  not  visible  on  her  face. 


wenna's  first  triumph.  69 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

wenna's  first  triumph. 

The  two  girls,  as  they  went  up  the  main  street  of  Eglosilyan 
(it  was  sweet  with  the  scent  of  flowers  on  this  beautiful  evening), 
left  Mr.  Roscorla  in  front  of  the  obscure  little  public-house  he  had 
undertaken  to  visit ;  and  it  is  probable  that  in  the  whole  of  Eng- 
land at  that  moment  there  was  not  a  more  miserable  man.  He 
knew  this  Nicholas  Keam,  and  his  sister,  and  his  brother-in-law, 
so  far  as  their  names  went,  and  they  knew  him  by  sight;  but 
he  had  never  said  more  than  good-morning  to  any  one  of  them, 
and  he  had  certainly  never  entered  this  pot-house,  where  a  sort  of 
debating  society  was  nightly  held  by  the  habitues.  But,  all  the 
same,  he  would  do  what  he  had  undertaken  to  do,  for  Wenna 
Rosewarne's  sake ;  and  it  was  with  some  sensation  of  a  despair- 
ing heroism  that  he  went  up  the  steps  of  slate  and  crossed  the 
threshold. 

He  looked  into  the  place  from  the  passage.  He  found  before 
him  what  was  really  a  large  kitchen,  with  a  spacious  fireplace, 
and  heavy  rafters  across  the  roof ;  but  all  around  the  walls  there 
was  a  sort  of  bench  with  a  high  wooden  back  to  it,  and  on  this 
seat  sat  a  number  of  men — one  or  two  laborers,  the  rest  slate- 
workers — who,  in  the  dusk,  were  idly  smoking  and  looking  at  the 
beer  on  the  narrow  tables  before  them.  Was  this  the  sort  of 
place  that  his  future  wife  had  been  in  the  habit  of  visiting? 
There  was  a  sort  of  gloomy  picturesqucness  about  the  chamber, 
to  be  sure ;  for,  warm  as  the  evening  was,  a  fire  burned  flickering- 
ly  in  the  grate  ;  there  was  enough  light  to  show  the  tin  and  cop- 
per vessels  shining  over  the  high  mantel-piece ;  and  a  couple  of 
fair-haired  children  were  playing  about  the  middle  of  the  floor, 
little  heeding  the  row  of  dusky  figures  around  the  tables,  whose 
heads  were  half  hidden  by  tobacco-smoke. 

A  tall,  thin,  fresh-colored  woman  came  along  the  passage ;  and 
Mr.  Roscorla  was  glad  that  be  had  not  to  go  in  among  these  la- 


70  THREE    FEATHERS. 

borers  to  make  liis  business  known.  It  was  bad  enough  to  have 
to  speak  to  Mrs.  Haigh,  the  landlady  of  the  Napoleon. 

"  Good-morning,  Mrs.  Haigh,"  said  he,  with  an  appearance  of 
cheerfulness. 

"  Good-evenin',  zor,"  said  she,  staring  at  him  with  those  cruelly 
shrewd  and  clear  eyes  that  the  Cornish  peasantry  have. 

"  I  called  in  to  see  Mr.  Keara,"  said  he.     "  Is  he  much  better?" 

**  If  yii'd  like  vor  to  see'n,  zor,"  said  she,  rather  slowly,  as  if 
waiting  for  further  explanation,  "  yii'U  vind  'n  in  the  rlim  " — and 
with  that  she  opened  the  door  of  a  room  on  the  other  side  of  the 
passage.  It  was  obviously  the  private  parlor  of  the  household — 
an  odd  little  chamber  with  plenty  of  colored  lithographs  on  the 
walls,  and  china  and  photographs  on  the  mantel-piece ;  the  floor 
of  large  blocks  of  slate  ornamented  with  various  devices  in  chalk ; 
in  the  corner  a  cupboard  filled  with  old  cut  crystal,  brass  candle- 
sticks, and  other  articles  of  luxury.  The  room  had  one  occupant 
— a  tall  man  who  sat  in  a  big  wooden  chair  by  the  window,  his 
head  hanging  forward  between  his  high  shoulders,  and  his  thin 
white  hands  on  the  arms  of  the  chair.  The  sunken  cheeks,  the 
sallow-white  complexion,  the  listless  air,  and  an  occasional  sigh  of 
resignation,  told  a  sufficiently  plain  story ;  although  Mrs.  Haigh, 
in  regarding  her  brother,  and  speaking  to  him  in  a  low  voice,  as 
if  to  arouse  his  attention,  wore  an  air  of  brisk  cheerfulness  strange- 
ly in  contrast  with  the  worn  look  of  his  face. 

"Don't  yii  knaw  Mr.  Roscorla,  brother  Nicholas?"  said  his 
sister.  "  Don't  yii  look  mazed,  when  he's  come  vor  to  zee  if 
yii're  better.  And  yii  be  much  better  to-day,  brother  Nicho- 
las?" 

'*  Yes,  I  think,"  said  the  sick  man,  agreeing  with  his  sister  out 
of  mere  listlessncss. 

"  Oh  yes,  I  think  you  look  much  better,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla, 
hastily  and  nervously,  for  he  feared  that  both  these  people  would 
see  in  his  face  what  he  thought  of  this  unhappy  man's  chances  of 
living.  But  Nicholas  Keam  mostly  kept  his  eyes  turned  towards 
the  floor,  except  when  the  brisk,  loud  voice  of  his  sister  roused 
him  and  caused  him  to  look  up. 

A  most  awkward  pause  ensued.  Mr.  Roscorla  felt  convinced 
they  would  think  he  was  mad  if  he  oflEered  to  sit  down  in  tliis 
parlor  and  read  the  newspapers  to  the  invalid ;  he  forgot  that 
they  did  not  know  him  as  Avell  as  he  did  himself.     On  the  other 


wenna's  first  triumph.  Vl 

hand,  would  they  not  consider  him  a  silly  person  if  he  admitted 
that  he  only  made  the  offer  in  order  to  please  a  girl  ?  Besides, 
he  could  see  no  newspapers  in  the  room.  Fortunately,  at  this 
moment  Mr.  Keam  himself  came  to  the  rescue  by  saying,  in  a 
slow  and  languid  way — 

"  I  did  expect  vor  to  zee  Miss  Rosewarne  this  evcnin' — yaas,  I 
did ;  and  she  were  to  read  me  the  news  ;  but  I  suppose  now — " 

"  Oh !"  said  Mr,  Eoscorla,  quickly,  "I  have  just  seen  Miss  Rose- 
warne— she  told  me  she  expected  to  see  you,  but  was  a  little  tired. 
Now,  if  you  like,  I  will  read  the  newspapers  to  you  as  long  as  the 
light  lasts." 

"  "Why  don't  yii  thank  the  gentleman,  brother  Nicholas  2"  said 
Mrs.  Haigh,  who  was  apparently  most  anxious  to  get  away  to  her 
duties.  "  That  be  very  kind  of  yii,  zor.  'Tis  a  great  comfort  to 
'n  to  hear  the  news  ;  and  I'll  send  yii  in  the  papers  at  once.  Yii 
com  away  with  me,  Rosana,  and  yii  can  come  agwain  and  bring 
the  gentleman  the  newspapers." 

She  dragged  off  with  her  a  small  girl  who  had  wandered  in ; 
and  Mr.  Roscorla  was  left  alone  with  the  sick  man.  The  feelings 
in  his  heart  were  not  those  which  Wenna  would  have  expected  to 
find  there  as  the  result  of  the  exercise  of  charity. 

The  small  girl  came  back,  and  gave  him  the  newspapers.  He 
began  to  read;  she  sat  down  before  him  and  stared  up  into  his 
face.  Then  a  brother  of  hers  came  in,  and  he,  too,  sat  down,  and 
proceeded  to  stare.  Mr.  Roscorla  inwardly  began  to  draw  pict- 
ures of  the  astonishment  of  certain  of  his  old  acquaintances  if 
they  had  suddenly  opened  that  small  door,  and  found  him,  in  the 
parlor  of  an  ale-house,  reading  stale  political  articles  to  an  appar- 
ently uninterested  invalid  and  a  couple  of  cottage  children. 

He  was  thankful  that  the  light  was  rapidly  declining ;  and  long 
before  he  had  reached  the  half-hour  he  made  that  his  excuse  for 
going. 

"  The  next  time  I  come,  Mr.  Keam,"  said  he,  cheerfully,  as  he 
rose  and  took  his  hat,  "  I  shall  come  earlier." 

"  I  did  expect  vor  to  zee  Miss  Rosewarne  this  cvenin',"  said 
Nicholas  Keam,  ungratefully  paying  no  heed  to  the  hypocritical 
offer ;  "  vor  she  were  here  yesterday  marnin',  and  she  told  me  that 
Mr.  Trelyon  had  zecn  my  brother  in  London  streets,  and  I  want 
vor  to  know  mower  about  'n,  I  dii." 

^'  She  told  you?"  Mr.  Roscorla  said,  with  a  sudden  and  wild 


72  THREE    FEATHERS. 

suspicion  filling  his  mind.  "  How  did  she  know  that  Mr.  Trelyon 
Avas  in  London  2" 

"  How  did  she  knaw  ?"  repeated  the  sick  man,  indolently. 
"  Why,  he  zaid  zo  in  the  letter." 

So  Mr,  Trelyon,  whose  whereabouts  were  not  even  known  to  his 
own  family,  was  in  correspondence  with  Miss  Rosewarne,  and  she 
had  carefully  concealed  the  fact  from  the  man  she  was  going  to 
marry.  Mr.  Roscorla  rather  absently  took  his  leave,  \yhen  he 
went  outside  a  clear  twilight  was  shining  over  Eglosilyan,  and 
the  first  of  the  yelloAv  stars  were  palely  visible  in  the  gray.  He 
walked  slowly  down  towards  the  inn. 

If  Mr.  Eoscorla  had  any  conviction  on  any  subject  whatever,  it 
was  this — that  no  human  being  ever  thoroughly  and  without  re- 
serve revealed  himself  or  herself  to  any  other  human  being.  Of 
course  he  did  not  bring  that  as  a  charge  against  the  human  race, 
or  against  that  member  of  it  from  Avhose  individual  experience 
he  had  derived  his  theory — himself ;  he  merely  accepted  this 
thing  as  one  of  the  facts  of  life.  People,  he  considered,  might 
be  fairly  honest,  well-intentioned,  and  moral ;  but  inside  the  cir- 
cle of  their  actions  and  sentiments  that  Avere  openly  declared 
there  Avas  another  circle  only  knoAvn  to  themselves ;  and  to  this 
region  the  foul  bird  of  suspicion,  as  soon  as  it  Avas  born,  immedi- 
ately fled  on  silent  wings.  Not  that,  after  a  minute's  considera- 
tion, he  suspected  anything  very  terrible  in  the  present  case.  He 
Avas  more  vexed  than  alarmed.  And  yet  at  times,  as  he  slowly 
Avalked  doAvn  the  steep  street,  he  grcAV  a  little  angry,  and  Avon- 
dered  hoAv  this  apparently  ingenuous  creature  should  have  con- 
cealed from  him  her  correspondence  Avith  Harry  Trelyon,  and  re- 
solved that  he  Avould  have  a  speedy  explanation  of  the  Avholc  mat- 
ter. He  Avas  too  shrcAvd  a  man  of  the  Avorld  to  be  tricked  by  a 
girl,  or  trifled  Avith  by  an  impertinent  lad. 

He  Avas  overtaken  by  the  tAvo  girls,  and  they  Avalkcd  together 
the  rest  of  the  way.  Wenna  was  in  excellent  spirits,  and  was 
very  kind  and  grateful  to  him.  SomehoAv,  when  he  heard  her 
loAV  and  SAveet  laughter,  and  saAV  the  frank  kindness  of  her  dark 
eyes,  he  abandoned  the  gloomy  suspicions  that  had  crossed  his 
mind ;  but  he  still  considered  that  he  had  been  injured,  and  that 
the  injury  was  all  the  greater  in  that  he  had  just  been  persuaded 
into  making  a  fool  of  himself  for  Wenna  Rosewarne's  sake. 

He  said  nothing  to  her  then,  of  course  ;  and,  as  the  evening 


wenna's  first  triumph.  73 

passed  cheerfully  enough  in  Mrs.  Rosewarne's  parlor,  he  resolved 
he  would  postpone  inquiry  into  this  matter.  He  had  never  seen 
Wenna  so  pleased  herself,  and  so  obviously  bent  on  pleasing  oth- 
ers. She  petted  her  mother,  and  said  slyly  sarcastic  things  of  her 
father,  until  George  Rosewarne  roared  with  laughter ;  she  listened 
with  respectful  eyes  and  attentive  ears  when  Mr.  Roscorla  pro- 
nounced an  opinion  on  the  affairs  of  the  day ;  and  she  dexterous- 
ly cut  rolls  of  paper  and  dressed  up  her  sister  Mabyn  to  represent 
a  lady  of  the  time  of  Elizabeth,  to  the  admiration  of  everybody. 
Mr.  Roscorla  had  inwardly  to  confess  that  he  had  secured  for 
himself  a  most  charming  and  delightful  wife,  who  would  make 
a  wonderful  difference  in  those  dull  evenings  up  at  Basset  Cot- 
tage. 

He  only  half  guessed  the  origin  of  Miss  Wenna's  great  and  ob- 
vious satisfaction.  It  was  really  this — that  she  had  that  evening 
reaped  the  first  welcome  fruits  of  her  new  relations  in  finding  Mr. 
Roscorla  ready  to  go  and  perform  acts  of  charity.  But  for  her 
engagement,  that  would  certainly  not  have  happened ;  and  this, 
she  believed,  was  but  the  auspicious  beginning.  Of  course  Mr. 
Roscorla  would  have  laughed  if  she  had  informed  him  of  her  be- 
lief that  the  regeneration  of  the  whole  little  world  of  Eglosilyan 
— something  like  the  Millennium,  indeed — was  to  come  about 
merely  because  an  innkeeper's  daughter  was  about  to  be  made  a 
married  woman.  AVenna  Rosewarne,  however,  did  not  formulate 
any  such  belief ;  but  she  was  none  the  less  proud  of  the  great  re- 
sults that  had  already  been  secured  by — by  Avhat  ?  By  her  sacri- 
fice of  herself  ?     She  did  not  pursue  the  subject  so  far. 

Her  delight  was  infectious.  Mr.  Roscorla,  as  he  walked  home 
that  night — under  the  throbbing  starlight,  with  the  sound  of  the 
Atlantic  murmuring  through  the  darkness — was,  on  the  whole, 
rather  pleased  that  he  had  been  vexed  on  hearing  of  that  letter 
from  Harry  Trelyon.  He  would  continue  to  be  vexed.  He 
Avould  endeavor  to  be  jealous  without  measure ;  for  how  can 
jealousy  exist  if  an  anxious  love  is  not  also  present?  and,  in  fact, 
should  not  a  man  who  is  really  fond  of  a  woman  be  quick  to  re- 
sent the  approach  of  any  one  who  seems  to  interfere  with  his 
right  of  property  in  her  affections?  By  the  time  he  reached 
Basset  Cottage,  Mr.  Roscorla  had  very  nearly  persuaded  him- 
self into  the  belief  that  he  was  really  in  love  with  Wenna  Rose- 
warne. 

D 


74  THREE  FEATHERS. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE    RING    OF    EVIL    OMEN. 

One  of  Wcnna's  many  friends  outside  tlie  village  in  which  she 
lived  "was  a  strange  misshapen  creature  who  earned  his  living  by 
carrying  sand  from  one  of  the  bays  on  the  coast  to  the  farmers 
on  the  uplands  above.  This  he  did  by  means  of  a  troop  of  don- 
keys—  small,  rough,  light -haired,  and  large -eyed  animals  —  that 
struggled  up  the  rude  and  steep  path  on  the  face  of  the  cliff,  with 
the  bags  on  their  backs  that  he  had  laboriously  filled  below.  It 
was  a  sufficiently  cheerless  occupation  for  this  unfortunate  hunch- 
back, and  not  a  very  profitable  one.  The  money  lie  got  from  the 
farmers  did  not  much  more  than  cover  the  keep  of  the  donkeys. 
He  seldom  spoke  to  any  human  being ;  for  who  was  going  to  de- 
scend that  rough  and  narrow  path  down  to  the  shore — where  he 
and  his  donkeys  appeared  to  be  no  bigger  than  mice — with  the 
knowledge  that  there  was  no  path  around  the  precipitous  coast, 
and  that  nothing  would  remain  but  the  long  climb  up  again  ? 

Wenna  Rosewarne  had  some  pity  for  this  solitary  wretch,  who 
toiled  at  his  task  with  the  melancholy  Atlantic  before  him,  and 
behind  him  a  great  and  lonely  wall  of  crumbling  slate ;  and, 
Avhenever  she  had  time,  she  used  to  walk  with  her  sister  across 
from  Eglosilyan  by  the  high-lying  downs  until  they  reached  this 
little  indentation  in  the  coast  where  a  curve  of  yellow  sand  was 
visible  far  below.  If  this  poor  fellow  and  his  donkeys  were  to 
be  seen  from  the  summit,  the  two  girls  had  little  fear  of  the  fa- 
tigue of  descending  the  path  down  the  side  of  the  steep  cliff ;  and 
the  object  of  their  visit  used  to  be  highly  pleased  and  flattered 
by  their  coming  to  chat  with  him  for  a  few  minutes.  He  would 
hasten  the  filling  of  his  bags  so  as  to  ascend  again  with  them, 
and,  in  a  strange  tongue  that  even  the  two  Cornish  girls  could 
not  always  understand,  he  would  talk  to  them  of  the  merits  of  his 
favorite  donkeys,  of  their  willingness  and  strength  and  docility. 
They  never  took  him  any  tracts ;  they  never  uttered  a  Avord  of 
condolence  or  sympathy.     Their  visit  was  merely  of  the  nature 


THE    RING    OF   EVIL    OMEN.  75 

of  a  friendly  call ;  but  it  was  a  mark  of  attention  and  kindliness 
tliat  gave  the  man  sometliing  pleasant  to  think  of  for  days  there- 
after. 

Now  on  one  of  these  occasions  Mr.  Roscorla  went  with  Wenna 
and  her  sister ;  and  although  he  did  not  at  all  see  the  use  of  go- 
ing down  this  precipitous  cliff  for  the  mere  purpose  of  toiling  up 
again,  he  was  not  going  to  confess  that  he  dreaded  the  fatigue  of 
it.  Moreover,  this  was  another  mission  of  charity ;  and,  although 
he  had  not  called  again  on  Mr.  Keam — although,  in  fact,  he  had 
inwardly  vowed  that  the  prayers  of  a  thousand  angels  would  not 
induce  him  again  to  visit  Mr.  Keam — he  was  anxious  that  Wenna 
should  believe  that  he  still  remained  her  pupil.  So,  with  a  good 
grace,  he  went  down  the  tortuous  pathway  to  the  desolate  little 
bay  where  the  sand-carrier  was  at  work.  He  stood  and  looked  at 
the  sea  while  Wenna  chatted  Avith  her  acquaintance ;  he  studied 
the  rigging  of  the  distant  ships ;  he  watched  the  choughs  and 
daws  flying  about  the  face  of  the  rocks ;  he  drew  figures  on  the 
sand  with  the  point  of  his  cane,  and  wondered  whether  he  would 
be  back  in  good  time  for  luncheon  if  this  garrulous  hunchback 
jabbered  in  his  guttural  way  for  another  hour.  Then  he  had  the 
pleasure  of  climbing  up  the  cliff  again,  with  a  whole  troop  of  don- 
keys going  before  him  in  Indian  file  up  the  narrow  and  zigzag 
path,  and  at  last  he  reached  the  summit.  His  second  effort  in 
the  way  of  charity  had  been  accomplished. 

He  proposed  that  the  young  ladies  should  sit  down  to  rest  for 
a  few  minutes,  after  the  donkeys  and  their  driver  had  departed  ; 
and  accordingly  the  three  strangers  chose  a  block  of  slate  for  a 
seat,  with  the  warm  grass  for  a  footstool,  and  all  around  them  the 
beauty  of  an  August  morning.  The  sea  was  ruffled  into  a  dark 
blue  where  it  neared  the  horizon ;  but  closer  at  hand  it  was  pale 
and  still.  The  sun  was  hot  on  the  bleak  pasture-land.  There 
was  a  scent  of  fern  and  Avild  thyme  in  the  air. 

"  By  the  way,  Wenna,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  "  I  wonder  you 
have  never  asked  me  why  I  have  not  yet  got  you  an  engaged 
ring." 

"Wenna  docs  not  want  an  engaged  ring,"  said  Miss  Mabyn, 
sharply.     "  They  are  not  worn  now." 

This  audacious  perversion  of  fact  on  the  part  of  the  sclf-willod 
young  beauty  was  in  reality  a  sort  of  cry  of  despair.  If  Mr.  Ros- 
corla had  not  yet  spoken  of  a  ring  to  Wenna,  Mabyn  had ;  and 


76  THREE    FEATHERS. 

Mabyn  had  besought  her  sister  not  to  accept  this  symbol  of 
hopeless  captivity. 

"  Oh,  AVcnna  !"  she  had  said,  "  if  you  take  a  ring  from  him,  I 
shall  look  on  you  as  carried  away  from  us  forever." 

"  Nonsense,  Mabyn,"  the  elder  sister  had  said.  "  The  ring  is 
of  no  importance ;  it  is  the  word  you  have  spoken  that  is." 

*'  Oh  no,  it  isn't,"  Mabyn  said,  earnestly.  "  As  long  as  you 
don't  wear  a  ring,  Wenna,  I  still  fancy  I  shall  get  you  back  from 
him ;  and  you  may  say  what  you  like,  but  you  are  far  too  good 
for  him." 

"  Mabyn,  you  are  a  disobedient  child,"  the  elder  sister  said, 
stopping  the  argument  with  a  kiss,  and  not  caring  to  raise  a  quan-el. 

Well,  when  Mr.  Roscorla  was  suddenly  confronted  by  this  state- 
ment, he  was  startled ;  but  he  inwardly  resolved  that,  as  soon  as 
he  and  Wenna  were  married,  he  would  soon  bring  Miss  Mabyn's 
interference  in  their  affairs  to  an  end.  At  present  he  merely  said, 
mildly — 

"I  was  not  aware  that  engaged  rings  were  no  longer  worn. 
However,  if  that  be  so,  it  is  no  reason  Avhy  we  should  discontinue 
a  good  old  custom  ;  and  I  have  put  off  getting  you  one,  W^enna, 
because  I  knew  I  had  to  go  to  London  soon.  I  find  now  I  must 
go  on  Monday  next;  and  so  I  want  you  to  tell  me  what  sort 
of  stones  you  like  best  in  a  ring." 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know,"  AVenna  said,  humbly  and  dutifully. 
"  I  am  sure  to  like  whatever  you  choose." 

"  But  what  do  you  prefer  yourself  ?"  he  again  said. 

Wenna  hesitated,  but  Miss  Mabyn  did  not.  She  was  prepared 
for  the  crisis.     She  had  foreseen  it. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Roscorla,"  she  said  (and  you  would  not  have  fancied 
there  was  any  guile  or  malice  in  that  young  and  pretty  face,  with 
its  tender  blue  eyes  and  its  proud  and  sweet  mouth),  "  don't  you 
know  that  Wenna  likes  emeralds  ?" 

Mr.  Roscorla  Avas  very  near  telling  the  younger  sister  to  mind 
her  own  business ;  but  he  was  afraid,  lie  only  said,  in  a  stiff 
way,  to  his  betrothed — 

"  Do  you  like  emeralds  ?" 

"  I  think  they  are  very  pretty,"  Wenna  replied,  meekly.  "  I 
am  sure  I  shall  like  any  ring  you  choose." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  said  he,  rather  discontented  that  she  Avould 
show  no  preference.     "  I  shall  get  you  an  emerald  ring." 


THE    RING    OF    EVIL    OMEN.  77 

When  she  heard  this  decision,  the  heart  of  Mabyn  Rosewarnc 
was  filled  with  an  unholy  joy.  This  was  the  rhyme  that  was 
running  through  her  head : 

"Oh,  green's  forsaken, 
And  yellow's  forsworn, 
And  blue's  the  sweetest 
Color  that's  worn!" 

Wenna  was  saved  to  her  now.  How  could  any  two  people  marry 
who  had  engaged  themselves  with  an  emerald  ring  ?  There  was  a 
great  deal  of  what  might  be  called  natural  religion  in  this  young 
lady,  to  distinguish  it  from  that  which  she  had  been  taught  on 
Sunday  forenoons  and  at  her  mother's  knee :  a  belief  in  occult  in- 
fluences ruling  the  earth,  unnamable,  undefinable,  but  ever  present 
and  ever  active.  If  fairly  challenged,  she  might  have  scrupled  to 
say  that  she  believed  in  Brownies,  or  the  Small  People,  or  in  any 
one  of  the  thousand  superstitions  of  the  Cornish  peasantry.  But 
she  faithfully  observed  these  superstitions.  If  her  less  heedful 
sister  put  a  cut  loaf  upside  down  on  the  plate,  Mabyn  would  in- 
stantly right  it,  and  say  "  Oh,  Wenna !"  as  if  her  sister  had  forgot- 
ten that  that  simple  act  meant  that  some  ship  was  in  sore  distress. 
If  Wenna  laughed  at  any  of  these  fancies,  Mabyn  said  nothing ; 
but  all  the  same  she  was  convinced  in  her  own  mind  that  things 
happened  to  people  in  a  strange  fashion,  and  in  accordance  with 
omens  that  might  have  been  remarked.  She  knew  that  if  Mr. 
Roscorla  gave  Wenna  a  ring  of  emeralds,  Mr.  Roscorla  Avould 
never  marry  her. 

One  thing  puzzled  her,  however.  Which  of  the  two  Avas  to  be 
the  forsaken  ?  Was  it  Wenna  or  Mr.  Roscorla  who  would  break 
this  engagement  that  the  younger  sister  had  set  her  heart  against  ? 
Well,  she  would  not  have  been  sorry  if  Mr.  Roscorla  were  the 
guilty  party,  except  in  so  far  as  some  humiliation  might  thereby 
fall  on  Wenna.  But  the  more  she  thought  of  the  matter,  the 
more  she  was  convinced  that  Mr.  Roscorla  was  aware  he  had  the 
best  of  the  bargain,  and  was  not  at  all  likely  to  seek  to  escape 
from  it.  It  was  he  who  must  be  forsaken ;  and  she  had  no  pity 
for  him.  What  right  had  an  old  man  to  come  and  try  to  carry 
off  her  sister — her  sister  whose  lover  ought  to  be  **  young  and 
beautiful,  like  a  prince  ?"  Mabyn  kept  repeating  the  lines  to  her- 
self all  the  time  they  walked  homewards;  and  if  Wenna  had 


78  THREE    FEATHERS. 

asked  her  a  question  just  then,  the  chances  are  she  would  have 
answered — 

"Oh,  green's  forsaken. 

And  yellow's  forsworn, 
And  blue's  the  sweetest 
Color  that's  worn!" 

But  Wenna  was  otherwise  engaged  during  this  homeward  walk. 
Mr.  Roscorla,  having  resolved  to  go  to  London,  thought  he  might 
as  well  have  that  little  matter  about  Harry  Trelyon  cleared  up 
before  he  went.  He  had  got  all  the  good  out  of  it  possible,  by 
nursing  whatever  unquiet  suspicions  it  provoked,  and  trying  to 
persuade  himself  that  as  he  was  in  some  measure  jealous  he  must 
in  some  measure  be  in  love.  But  he  had  not  the  courage  to  take 
these  suspicions  with  him  to  London ;  they  were  not  pleasant 
travelling  companions. 

"  I  wonder,"  he  said,  in  rather  a  nervous  way,  **  whether  I  shall 
see  young  Trelyon  in  London." 

Wenna  was  not  at  all  disturbed  by  the  mention  of  the  name. 
She  only  said,  with  a  smile — 

"  It  is  a  big  place  to  seek  any  one  in." 

"  You  know  he  is  there  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,"  she  answered  directly. 

"  It  is  odd  that  you  should  know,  for  he  has  not  told  any  one 
up  at  Trelyon  Hall ;  in  fact,  no  one  appears  to  have  heard  any- 
thing about  him  but  yourself." 

"  How  very  silly  of  him,"  Wenna  said,  "  to  be  so  thoughtless ! 
Doesn't  his  mother  know?  Do  you  think  she  would  like  to 
know?" 

"  Well,"  said  he,  with  marked  coldness,  "  doubtless  she  would 
be  surprised  at  his  liaving  communicated  with  you  in  preference 
to  any  one  else." 

Wenna's  soft  dark  eyes  were  turned  up  to  his  face  with  a  sud- 
den look  of  astonishment.  He  had  never  spoken  to  her  in  this 
way  before.  She  could  not  understand.  And  then  she  said,  very 
quickly,  and  with  a  sudden  flush  of  color  to  the  pale  face — 

"  Oh  !  but  this  letter  is  only  about  the  dog.  I  will  show  it  to 
you.     I  have  it  in  my  pocket." 

She  took  out  the  letter  and  handed  it  to  him ;  and  he  might 
have  seen  that  her  hand  trembled.  She  was  very  much  perturbed 
— she  scarcely  knew  why.     But  there  was  something  in  his  man- 


THE    RING    OF    EVIL    OMEN.  79 

ner  that  Lad  almost  frightened  lier — something  distant  and  harsh 
and  suspicious ;  and  surely  she  had  done  no  wrong  ? 

He  smoothed  out  the  crumpled  sheet  of  paper,  and  a  contempt- 
uous smile  passed  over  his  face, 

"  He  writes  with  more  care  to  you  than  to  other  people ;  but 
I  can't  say  much  for  his  handwriting  at  the  best." 

Wenna  colored,  and  said  nothing ;  but  Mabyn  remarked,  rather 
warmly — 

"  I  don't  think  a  man  need  try  to  write  like  a  dancing-master, 
if  he  means  what  he  says,  and  can  tell  you  that  frankly." 

Mr.  Roscorla  did  not  heed  this  remarkably  incoherent  speech, 
for  he  was  reading  the  letter,  which  ran  as  follows : 

"Nolan's  Hotel,  London,  July  30, 18 — . 
"Dear  Miss  Rosewarne, — 

"  I  know  you  would  like  to  have  Rock,  and  he's  no  good  at  all 
as  a  retreaver,  and  I've  written  to  Luke  to  take  him  down  to  you 
at  the  Inn,  and  I  shall  be  very  pleased  if  you  will  accept  him  as 
a  present  from  me.  Either  Luke  or  your  father  will  tell  you  how 
to  feed  him ;  and  I  am  sure  you  will  be  kind  to  him,  and  not 
chain  him  up,  and  give  him  plenty  of  exersise.  I  hope  you  are 
all  well  at  the  Inn,  and  that  Mabyn's  pigeons  have  not  flowne 
away.     Tell  her  not  to  forget  the  piece  of  looking-glass. 

"  Yours  faithfully, 

''Harry  Trelton. 

*'  P.S. — I  met  Joshua  Kcam  quite  by  accident  yesterday.  He 
asked  for  you  most  kindly.     His  leg  has  been  ampitated  at  last." 

Here  was  nothing  at  which  a  jealous  lover  might  grumble. 
Mr.  Roscorla  handed  back  the  letter  with  scarcely  a  word,  leaving 
Wenna  to  puzzle  over  what  had  happened  to  make  him  look  at 
her  in  that  strange  way.  As  for  Miss  Mabyn,  that  young  lady 
would  say  nothing  to  hurt  her  sister's  feelings ;  but  she  said  many 
a  bitter  thing  to  herself  about  the  character  of  a  gentleman  who 
would  read  another  gentleman's  letter,  particularly  when  the  for- 
mer was  an  elderly  gentleman  and  the  latter  a  young  one,  and 
most  of  all  when  the  young  gentleman  had  been  writing  to  a  girl, 
and  that  girl  her  sister  Wenna.  "  But  green's  forsaken,"  Mabyn 
said  to  herself,  as  if  there  was  great  comfort  in  that  reflection — 
"  green's  forsaken,  and  yellow's  forsworn !" 


80  THREE    FEATHERS. 

And  so  Mr.  Roscorla  was  going  away  from  Eglosilyan  for  a 
time,  and  AYcnna  would  be  left  alone. 

Certainly,  if  this  brief  separation  promised  to  aflSict  her  griev- 
ously, it  had  not  that  effect  in  the  mean  time ;  for  once  she  had 
gone  over  the  matter  in  her  mind,  and  sketched  out,  as  was  her 
wont,  all  that  she  ought  to  do,  she  quietly  recovered  her  cheer- 
fulness, and  was  in  very  good  spirits  indeed  when  the  small  party 
reached  Eglosilyan.  And  here  was  a  small  and  sunburnt  boy — 
Master  Pentecost  Luke,  in  fact — waiting  for  her  right  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  road  in  front  of  the  inn,  whom  she  caught  up,  and 
kissed  and  scolded  all  at  once. 

"  Whatever  are  you  doing  down  here,  sir,  all  by  yourself  ?" 

"  I  have  turn  to  see  you,"  the  small  boy  said,  in  no  way  fright- 
ened or  abashed  by  her  rough  usage  of  him. 

"  And  so  you  want  Mr.  Trelyon  to  ride  over  you  again,  do 
you?  Haven't  I  told  you  never  to  come  here  without  some  of 
your  brothers  and  sisters  ?  Well,  say  '  How  do  you  do  V  to  the 
gentleman.     Don't  you  know  Penny  Luke,  Mr.  Roscorla  ?" 

"  I  believe  I  have  that  honor,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  with  a  smile, 
but  not  at  all  pleased  to  be  kept  in  the  middle  of  the  road  chat- 
tering to  a  cottager's  child. 

Miss  V.'enna  presently  shoved  that  she  Avas  a  well-built  and 
active  young  woman  by  swinging  Master  Penny  up  and  perching 
him  on  her  shoulder,  in  which  fashion  she  carried  him  into  the 
inn. 

"  Penny  is  a  great  friend  of  mine,"  she  said  to  Mr.  Roscorla, 
who  would  not  himself  have  attempted  that  feat  of  skill  and  dex- 
terity, "  and  you  must  make  his  acquaintance.  He  is  a  very  good 
boy  on  the  whole,  but  sometimes  he  goes  near  to  breaking  my 
heart.  I  shall  have  to  give  him  up,  and  take  another  sweetheart, 
if  he  doesn't  mind.  He  ivill  eat  with  his  fingers,  and  he  will  run 
out  and  get  among  horses'  feet ;  and  as  for  the  way  he  conducts 
himself  when  his  face  is  being  washed,  and  he  is  being  made  like 
a  gentleman,  I  never  saw  the  like  of  it." 

Master  Penny  did  not  seem  much  ashamed ;  he  was,  in  fact, 
too  proud  of  his  position.  They  marched  him  into  the  inn,  where, 
doubtless,  he  received  all  the  petting  and  other  good  things  he 
had  been  shrewdly  expecting. 

Mabyn  said  her  prayers  that  night  in  the  ordinary  and  formal 
fashion.     She  prayed  for  her  father  and  mother  and  for  her  sister 


THE    SNARES    OF    LONDON.  81 

Wenna,  as  she  bad  been  taught ;  and  she  added  in  the  Princess 
of  Wales  on  her  own  account,  because  she  liked  her  pretty  face. 
She  also  prayed  that  she  herself  should  be  made  humble  and  good, 
desirous  of  serving  her  fellow-creatures,  and  charitable  to  every 
one.     All  this  was  done  in  due  order. 

But  in  point  of  fact  her  heart  was  at  that  moment  far  from 
being  meek  and  charitable ;  it  was,  on  the  contrary,  filled  with 
bitterness  and  indignation.  And  the  real  cry  of  her  soul,  un- 
known to  herself,  went  out  to  all  the  vague,  imaginative  powers 
of  magic  and  witchcraft — to  the  mysterious  influences  of  the  stars 
and  the  strange  controllers  of  chance ;  and  it  was  to  these  that  she 
looked  for  the  rescue  of  her  sister  from  the  doom  that  threatened 
her,  and  to  them  that  she  appealed,  with  a  yearning  far  too  great 
for  words  or  even  for  tears.  When  she  was  but  a  child  play- 
ing among  the  rocks,  she  had  stumbled  on  the  dead  body  of  a 
sailor  that  had  been  washed  ashore ;  and  she  had  run,  white  and 
trembling,  into  the  village  with  the  news.  Afterwards  she  was 
told  that  on  the  hand  of  the  corpse  a  ring  with  a  green  stone  in 
it  was  found;  and  then  she  heard  for  the  first  time  the  rhyme 
that  had  never  since  left  her  memory.  She  certainly  did  not  wish 
that  Mr.  Roscorla  should  die ;  but  she  as  certainly  wished  that 
her  sister  Wenna  should  be  saved  from  becoming  his  wife ;  and 
she  reflected  with  a  fierce  satisfaction  that  it  was  she  who  had 
driven  him  to  promise  that  Wenna's  engaged  ring  should  be  com- 
posed of  those  fatal  stones. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE    SNARES    OF    LONDON. 


If  Mr.  IlaiTy  Trelyon  was  bent  on  going  to  the  devil,  to  use 
his  own  phrase,  he  went  a  quiet  way  about  it.  On  the  warm  and 
close  evening  of  a  summer  day  he  arrived  in  London.  A  red 
smoke  hung  about  the  western  sky,  over  the  tops  of  the  houses ; 
the  thoroughfares  that  were  in  shadow  were  filled  Avith  a  pale  blue 
mist ;  the  air  Avas  still  and  stifling — very  different  from  that  which 
came  in  at  night  from  the  sea  to  the  gardens  and  cottages  of 
Eglosilyan.     He  drove  down  through  these  hot  and  crowded 

D2 


82  THREE    FEATHERS. 

streets  to  a  hotel  near  Charing  Cross  —  an  old-fasliloned  little 
place  much  frequented  by  west-country  people,  who  sometimes 
took  rooms  there,  and  brought  their  daughters  up  for  a  month  or 
so  of  the  season,  at  which  time  no  other  guests  could  obtain  ad- 
mission. At  ordinary  times,  however,  the  place  was  chiefly  ten- 
anted by  a  few  country  gentlemen  and  a  clergyman  or  two,  who 
had  small  sitting-rooms,  in  which  they  dined  with  their  families, 
and  in  which  they  drank  a  glass  of  something  hot  before  going 
to  bed  at  night  after  coming  home  from  the  theatre. 

Harry  Trelyon  was  familiar  with  the  place  and  its  ways,  and 
with  the  traditions  of  his  father  and  grandfather,  who  invariably 
stopped  there ;  and,  following  in  their  footsteps,  he,  too,  obtained 
a  private  sitting-room  as  well  as  a  bedroom,  and  then  he  ordered 
dinner.  It  was  not  much  in  the  way  of  a  banquet  for  a  young 
gentleman  who  was  determined  to  go  to  the  devil.  It  consisted 
of  a  beefsteak  and  a  pint  of  claret ;  and  it  was  served  in  a  fairly- 
sized,  old-fashioned,  dimly-lit  room,  the  furniture  of  which  was 
of  that  very  substantial  sort  that  is  warranted  to  look  dingy  for  a 
couple  of  generations.  He  was  attended  by  a  very  old  and  shrunk- 
en waiter,  whose  white  whiskers  were  more  respectable  than  his 
shabby  clothes.  On  his  first  entrance  into  the  room  he  had  looked 
at  the  young  man  who,  in  a  rough  shooting -suit,  was  stretched 
out  at  full  length  in  an  easy-chair ;  and,  in  answering  a  question, 
lie  had  addressed  him  by  his  name. 

"  How  do  you  know  my  name  ?"  the  lad  said. 

"  Ah,  sir,  there's  no  mistaking  one  o'  your  family.  I  can  re- 
member your  grandfather,  and  your  uncle,  and  your  father.  Did 
you  never  hear,  sir,  that  I  was  a  witness  for  your  father  at  the 
police-court  ?" 

"  What  row  was  that  ?"  the  young  gentleman  asked,  showing 
his  familiarity  with  the  fact  that  the  annals  of  the  Trelyons  were 
of  a  ratTier  stormy  character. 

"  Why,  sir,"  the  old  man  said,  warming  up  into  a  little  excite- 
ment, and  unconsciously  falling  into  something  like  the  provincial 
accent  of  his  youth,  "  I  believe  you  was  in  the  hotel  at  the  time — 
yes,  as  well  as  I  can  recollect,  you  was  a  little  chap  then,  and  had 
gone  to  bed.  Well,  maybe  I'm  wrong  —  'tis  a  good  few  years 
agone.  But,  anyhow,  your  father  and  that  good  lady  your  moth- 
er, they  were  a-coming  home  from  a  theatre ;  and  there  was  two 
or  three  young  fellers  on  the  pavement — I  was  the  porter  then, 


THE    SNARES    OF   LONDON.  83 

sir — and  I  think  tliat  one  of  'em  called  out  to  tlie  other,  'Well, 
here's  a  country  beauty,'  or  some  such  cheek.  But,  anyhow,  your 
father,  sir,  he  knocks  him  aside,  and  takes  his  good  lady  into  the 
door  of  the  hotel,  and  then  they  was  for  foUerin'  of  him,  but  as 
soon  as  she  was  inside,  then  he  turns,  and  there  was  a  word  or 
two,  and  one  of  'em  he  ups  with  a  stick,  and  says  I  to  myself,  '  I 
can't  stand  aby  and  see  three  or  four  set  on  one  gentleman ;'  but 
lor !  sir — well,  you  wouldn't  believe  it — but  before  I  could  make  a 
step,  there  was  two  of  'em  lyin'  on  the  pavement — clean,  straight 
down,  sir,  with  their  hats  running  into  the  street — and  the  other 
two  making  off  as  fast  as  they  could  bolt  across  the  square.  Oh, 
lor,  sir,  wa'n't  it  beautiful !  And  the  way  as  your  father  turned 
and  says  he  to  me,  with  a  laugh  like, '  Tomlins,'  says  he,  *  you  can 
give  them  gentlemen  a  glass  of  brandy-and-water  when  they  ask 
for  it !'  And  the  magistrate,  sir,  he  was  a  real  sensible  gentleman, 
and  he  give  it  hot  to  these  fellers,  for  they  began  the  row,  sir,  and 
no  mistake;  but  to  see  the  way  they  went  down — lor,  sir,  you 
can't  believe  it !" 

"  Oh,  can't  I,  though?"  Master  Harry  said,  with  a  roar  of  laugh- 
ter. "Don't  you  make  any  mistake.  I  say,  what  did  you  say  your 
name  was  ?" 

"  My  name,  sir,"  said  the  old  man,  suddenly  sinking  from  the 
epic  heights  which  had  lent  a  sort  of  inspiration  to  his  face,  down 
to  the  ordinary  chastened  and  respectful  bearing  of  a  waiter — "  my 
name,  sir,  in  the  hotel  is  Charles ;  but  your  good  father,  sir,  he 
knowed  my  name,  which  is  Tomlins,  sir." 

"  Well,  look  here,  Tomlins,"  the  boy  said,  "  you  go  and  ask  the 
landlady  to  give  you  a  holiday  this  evening,  and  come  in  and 
smoke  a  pipe  with  me." 

"  Oh,  lor,  sir,"  the  old  waiter  said,  aghast  at  the  very  notion, 
"  I  couldn't  do  that.     It  would  be  as  much  as  my  place  is  worth." 

"  Oh,  never  mind  your  place — I'll  get  you  a  better  one,"  the 
lad  said,  with  a  sort  of  royal  carelessness.  "  I'll  get  you  a  place 
down  in  Cornwall.  You  come  and  help  our  butler — he's  a  horrid 
old  fool.  WTien  I  come  of  age,  I  mean  to  build  a  house  there  for 
myself.  No,  I  think  I  shall  have  rooms  in  London — anyhow,  I'll 
give  you  £100  a  year." 

The  old  man  shook  his  head. 

"No,  sir,  thank  you  very  much,  sir.  I'm  too  old  to  begin 
again.  You  want  a  younger  man  than  me.  Beg  your  pardon, 
sir,  but  they're  ringing  for  me." 


84  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  Poor  old  beggar !"  said  Trelyon  to  himself,  when  the  waiter 
had  left  the  room  ;  "  I  wonder  if  he's  married,  and  if  he's  got  any 
kids  that  one  could  help.  And  so  he  was  a  witness  for  my  father. 
Well,  he  sha'n't  suffer  for  that." 

Master  Harry  finished  his  steak  and  his  pint  of  claret ;  then 
he  lit  a  cigar,  got  into  a  hansom,  and  drove  up  to  a  street  in 
Seven  Dials,  where  he  at  length  discovered  a  certain  shop.  The 
shutters  were  on  the  windows,  and  a  stout  old  lady  was  taking  in 
from  the  door  the  last  of  the  rabbit-hutches  and  cages  that  had 
been  out  there  during  the  evening. 

"  You're  Mrs.  Finch,  ain't  you  ?"  Trelyon  said,  making  his  way 
into  the  shop,  which  was  lighted  inside  by  a  solitary  jet  of  gas, 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  woman,  looking  up  at  the  tall  young  man 
in  the  rough  shooting-costume  and  brown  wideawake. 

"  Well,  my  name's  Trelyon,  and  I'm  come  to  blow  you  up.  A 
pretty  mess  you  made  of  that  flamingo  for  me — why,  a  bishop 
in  lawn  sleeves  couldn't  have  stuffed  it  worse.  Where  did  you 
ever  see  a  bird  with  a  neck  like  a  corkscrew  ?  —  and  when  I 
opened  it  to  put  it  straight,  then  I  found  out  all  your  tricks, 
Mrs.  Finch." 

"  But  you  know,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Finch,  smiling  blandly,  "  it  ain't 
our  line  of  business." 

"  Well,  Fd  advise  you  to  get  somebody  else  next  time  to  stuff 
for  you.  However,  I  bear  you  no  malice.  You  show  me  what 
you've  got  in  the  way  of  live  stock ;  and  if  you  take  fifty  per 
cent,  off  your  usual  prices,  FU  let  the  corkscrew  flamingo  go." 

A  minute  thereafter  he  was  being  conducted  down  some  very 
dark  steps  into  a  subterranean  cellar  by  this  stout  old  woman, 
who  carried  a  candle  in  front  of  him.  Their  entrance  into  this 
large,  dismal,  and  strangely  filled  place — at  the  farther  end  of 
which  was  a  grating  looking  up  to  the  street — awoke  a  profound 
commotion  among  the  animals  around.  Cocks  began  to  crow, 
suddenly  awakened  birds  fluttered  up  and  down  their  cages,  par- 
oquets and  cockatoos  opened  their  sleepy  eyes  and  mechanically 
repeated  "  Pretty  Polly !"  and  "  Good-night !  good-night !"  Even 
the  rabbits  stared  solemnly  from  behind  the  bars. 

"  What  have  you  got  there  ?"  said  Trelyon  to  his  guide,  point- 
ing to  a  railway  milk-can  which  stood  in  the  corner,  nearly  filled 
with  earth. 

"  A  mole,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Finch  ;  "  it  is  a  plaything  of  one  of 


THE    SNARES    OF   LONDON.  85 

my  boys ;  but  I  could  let  you  have  it,  sir,  if  you  have  any  curios- 
ity that  way." 

"  Why,  bless  you,  I've  had  'em  by  the  dozen.  I  don't  know 
how  many  I've  let  escape  into  our  kitchen-garden,  all  with  a  string 
tied  to  their  leg.  Don't  they  go  down  a  cracker  if  you  let  'em 
loose  for  a  second !  I  should  say  that  fellow  in  there  was  rather 
disgusted  when  he  came  to  the  tin,  don't  you  think?  Got  any 
cardinals,  Mrs.  Finch  ?     I  lost  every  one  o'  them  you  sent  me." 

"  Dear,  dear  me !"  said  Mrs.  Finch,  showing  very  great  concern. 

"Ay,  you  may  well  say  that.  Every  one  o'  them,  and  about 
forty  more  birds  besides,  before  I  found  out  what  it  was — an  in- 
fernal weasel  that  had  made  its  way  into  the  rockwork  of  my 
aviary,  and  there  he  lived  at  his  ease  for  nearly  a  fortnight,  just 
killing  whatever  he  chose,  and  the  beggar  seemed  to  have  a  fancy 
for  the  prettiest  birds.  I  had  to  pull  the  whole  place  to  pieces 
before  I  found  him  out — and  there  he  was,  grinning  and  snarling 
in  a  corner.  By  Jove !  didn't  I  hit  him  a  whack  with  a  stick  I 
had !     There  were  no  more  birds  for  him  in  this  world." 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Finch's  husband  and  two  of  her  small 
boys  came  down-stairs ;  and  very  soon  the  conversation  on  natu- 
ral history  became  general,  each  one  anxious  to  give  his  experi- 
ences of  the  wonderful  things  he  had  observed,  even  if  his  travels 
had  carried  him  no  farther  than  Battersea  Reaches.  Master  Harry 
forgot  that  he  had  left  a  hansom  at  the  door.  There  was  scarce- 
ly an  animal  in  this  dungeon  that  he  did  not  examine ;  and  when 
lie  suddenly  discovered  that  it  was  considerably  past  eleven  o'clock, 
he  found  himself  the  owner  of  about  as  much  property  as  would 
have  filled  two  cabs.  He  went  up-stairs,  dismissed  the  hansom, 
and  got  a  four-wheeler,  in  which  he  deposited  the  various  cages, 
fish-globes,  and  what  not,  that  he  had  bought ;  and  then  he  drove 
off  to  his  hotel,  getting  all  the  waiters  in  the  place  to  assist  in 
carrying  these  various  objects  tenderly  up-stairs.  Thus  ended 
his  first  evening  in  London,  the  chief  result  of  which  was  that  his 
sitting-room  had  assumed  tke  appearance  of  a  bird-catcher's  win- 
dow. 

Next  forenoon  he  walked  up  into  Hyde  Park  to  have  a  look  at 
the  horses.  Among  the  riders  he  recognized  several  people  whom 
he  knew — some  of  them,  indeed,  related  to  him — but  he  was  care- 
ful to  take  no  notice  of  them. 

"Those  women,"  he  said  to  himself,  in  a  sensible  manner. 


80  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  don't  want  to  recognize  a  fellow  who  has  a  wideawake  on. 
They  would  do  it,  though,  if  you  presented  yourself;  and  they 
would  ask  you  to  lunch  or  to  tea  in  the  afternoon.  Then  you'd 
find  yourself  among  a  lot  of  girls,  all  with  their  young  men  about 
them,  and  the  young  men  would  wonder  how  the  dickens  you 
came  to  be  in  a  shooting-coat  in  London." 

So  ho  pursued  his  way,  and  at  length  found  himself  in  the  Zo- 
ological Gardens.  He  sat  for  nearly  an  hour  staring  at  the  lions 
and  tigers,  imagining  all  sorts  of  incidents  as  he  looked  at  their 
sleepy  and  cruel  eyes,  and  wondering  what  one  splendid  fellow 
would  do  if  he  went  down  and  stroked  his  nose.  He  had  the 
satisfaction  also  of  seeing  the  animals  fed ;  and  he  went  around 
with  the  man,  and  had  an  interesting  conversation  with  him. 

Then  he  went  and  had  some  luncheon  himself,  and  got  into 
talk  with  the  amiable  young  lady  who  waited  on  him,  who  ex- 
pressed in  generous  terms,  with  a  few  superfluous  /i's,  the  pleasure 
which  she  derived  from  going  to  the  theatre. 

"  Oh,  do  you  like  it  ?"  he  said,  carelessly  ;  "  I  never  go.  I  al- 
ways fall  asleep — country  habits,  you  know.  But  you  get  some- 
body to  go  with  you,  and  I'll  send  you  a  couple  of  places  for  to- 
morrow night,  if  you  like." 

"I  think  I  could  get  some  one  to  take  me,"  said  the  young 
lady,  with  a  pretty  little  simper. 

"  Yes,  I  should  think  you  could,"  he  said,  bluntly.  "  WTiat's 
your  name  V 

He  wrote  it  down  on  one  of  his  own  cards,  and  went  his  way. 

The  next  place  of  entertainment  he  visited  was  an  American 
bowling-alley,  in  the  neighborhood  of  Covent  Garden,  a  highly 
respectable  place  to  which  gentlemen  resorted  for  the  purpose  of 
playing  a  refined  sort  of  skittles.  Master  Harry  merely  wanted 
to  practise,  and  also  to  stretch  his  arms  and  legs.  He  had  just 
begun,  however,  to  send  the  big  balls  crashing  into  the  pins  at 
the  farther  end  of  the  alley,  when  the  only  visitor  in  the  place — 
a  sailor-looking  person  with  a  red  face,wlio  was  smoking  a  very 
elaborate  meerschaum — offered  to  play  a  game  with  him. 

"  All  right,"  said  Trelyon. 

"  For  a  couple  of  bob  ?"  says  the  stranger. 

"  Do  you  mean  two  shillings  ?"  asks  the  young  man,  calmly 
looking  down  upon  the  person  with  the  red  face ;  for,  of  course, 
Harry  Trelyon  never  used  slang. 


THE    SNARES    OF    LONDON.  87 

"  Yes,"  said  the  other,  witli  much  indifference,  as  he  selected 
one  of  the  balls. 

They  played  a  game,  and  Trelyon  won  easily.  They  played  an- 
other, and  again  he  won.     They  played  a  third,  and  still  he  won. 

"  Oh,  let's  play  for  a  sovereign,"  said  the  stranger. 

"No,"  said  the  young  man;  "I'm  going." 

Well,  this  did  not  at  all  seem  to  suit  his  opponent,  who  be- 
came rather  demonstrative  in  manner.  He  did  not  like  gentlemen 
coming  in  to  win  money,  without  giving  a  fellow  a  chance  of 
winning  it  back.  At  this  Trelyon  turned  suddenly — he  had  not 
yet  put  on  his  coat — and  said — 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  I  won't  play  any  more,  but  I'll  knock 
the  head  off  you  in  two  minutes,  if  that'll  suit  you  better." 

The  gentleman  with  the  red  face  paused  for  a  minute.  He  was 
evidently  in  a  nasty  temper.  He  looked  at  the  build  of  the  young 
man ;  he  also  observed  that  one  of  the  assistants  was  drawing  near ; 
and  still  he  said  nothing.  Whereupon  Master  Harry  quietly  put 
on  his  coat,  lit  a  cigar,  gave  a  friendly  nod  to  his  late  opponent, 
and  walked  out. 

In  this  wise  he  lounged  about  London  for  a  day  or  two,  look- 
ing in  at  Tattersall's,  examining  new  breech-loaders  in  shojDS  in  St. 
James's  Street,  purchasing  ingenuities  in  fishing-tackle,  and  very 
frequently  feeding  the  ducks  in  the  Serpentine  with  bread  bought 
of  the  boys  standing  around.  It  was  not  a  very  lively  sort  of  ex- 
istence, he  found.  Colonel  Ransome  had  left  for  Scotland  on  the 
very  day  before  his  arrival  in  London,  so  that  peaceable  and  or- 
derly means  of  getting  that  dowry  for  Wcnna  Rosewarne  were 
not  at  hand ;  and  Master  Harry,  though  he  was  enough  of  a  devil- 
may-care,  had  no  intention  of  going  to  the  Jews  for  the  money 
until  he  was  driven  to  it.  Colonel  Ransome,  moreorer,  had  left 
his  constituents  unrepresented  in  the  House  during  the  last  few 
days  of  the  session,  and  had  quietly  gone  off  to  Scotland  for  the 
12th,  so  that  it  was  impossible  to  say  when  he  might  return. 
Meanwhile  young  Trelyon  made  the  acquaintance  of  whatever 
birds,  beasts,  and  fishes  he  could  find  in  London,  until  he  got  a 
little  tired. 

All  of  a  sudden  it  struck  him  one  evening,  as  a  happy  relief, 
that  he  would  sit  down  and  write  to  Wenna  Rosewarne.  He  or- 
dered in  pens,  ink,  and  paper  with  much  solemnity  ;  and  then  he 
said  to  the  old  waiter,  "  Tomlins,  how  do  you  spell '  retriever'  ?" 


ea  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  I  ain't  quite  sure,  sir,"  Tomlins  said. 

Whereupon  Master  llarry  had  to  begin  and  compose  that  letter 
which  we  have  already  read,  but  which  cost  him  an  amount  of 
labor  not  visible  in  the  lines  as  they  stand.  He  threw  away  a 
dozen  sheets  of  paper  before  he  even  mastered  a  beginning ;  and 
it  was  certainly  an  hour  and  a  half  before  he  had  produced  a 
copy  which  more  or  less  satisfied  him.  Mr.  Roscorla  noticed  at 
once  the  pains  he  had  taken  with  the  writing. 

Then  in  due  course  came  the  answer ;  and  Master  Harry  paused 
with  much  satisfaction  to  look  at  the  pretty  handwriting  on  the 
envelope — he  did  not  often  get  letters  from  young  ladies.  The 
contents,  however,  did  not  please  him  quite  so  much.  They  were 
these : 

"Eglosilyan,  August  3,  IS — . 
"  Dear  Mr.  Trelyon, — 

"  Thank  you  very  much  for  giving  me  your  beautiful  dog.  I 
shall  take  great  care  of  him,  and  if  you  Avant  him  for  the  shoot- 
ing you  can  have  him  at  any  time.  But  I  am  surprised  you 
should  write  to  me  when  I  hear  that  you  have  not  written  to 
your  own  relatives,  and  that  they  do  not  even  know  where  you 
are.  I  cannot  understand  how  you  should  be  so  careless  of  the 
feelings  of  others.  I  am  sure  it  is  thoughtlessness  rather  than 
selfishness  on  your  part ;  but  I  hope  you  will  write  to  them  at 
once.  Mr.  Barnes  has  just  called,  and  I  have  given  him  your  ad- 
dress. "  I  am,  yours  sincerely, 

"Wenna  Rosewarne." 

Harry  Trelyon  was  at  once  vexed  and  pleased  by  this  letter ; 
probably  more  vexed  than  pleased,  for  he  threw  it  impatiently  on 
the  table,  and  said  to  himself,  "  She's  always  reading  lectures  to 
people,  and  always  making  a  fuss  of  nothing.  She  was  meant  for 
a  Puritan — she  should  have  gone  out  in  the  Mayfly  to  America." 

Mayfly  for  Mayflower  was  perhaps  a  natural  mistake  for  a 
trout-fisher  to  make ;  but  Master  Harry  was  unaware  of  it.  He 
passed  on  to  more  gloomy  fancies.  What  was  this  parson  about 
that  he  should  come  inquiring  for  his  address  of  AVenna  Rose- 
warne  ?     How  had  he  found  out  that  she  knew  it  ? 

"  Come,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  this  won't  do.  I  must  go  down 
to  Cornwall.  And  if  there  are  any  spies  pushing  their  noses  into 
my  aifairs,  let  'em  look  out  for  a  tweak,  that's  all !" 


THE    TWO    PICTURES.  89 


CHAPTER  XL 

THE     TWO     PICTURES. 

*'  Oh,  Mabyn,"  Wenna  called  out  in  despair,  "  you  will  have  all 
my  hair  down.     Have  you  gone  quite  mad  ?" 

"  Yes,  quite,"  the  younger  sister  said,  with  a  wild  enjoyment 
in  her  eyes.  "  Oh,  Wenna,  he's  gone,  he's  gone,  and  he's  gone 
to  get  you  an  emerald  ring !  Don't  you  know,  you  poor  silly 
thing,  that  green's  forsaken,  and  yellow's  forsworn  ?" 

"  Well,  Mabyn,"  the  elder  sister  said,  laughing  in  spite  of  her- 
self, "  you  are  the  wickedest  girl  I  ever  heard  of,  and  I  wonder  I 
am  not  angry  with  you." 

At  this  moment  they  Avere  returning  to  Eglosilyan  along  the 
Launceston  highway ;  and  far  away  behind  them,  on  the  road 
that  crosses  the  bleak  and  lofty  moors,  the  dog-cart  was  faintly 
visible  which  was  taking  Mr.  Roscorla  on  his  first  stage  towards 
London.  He  had  driven  the  two  sisters  out  for  about  a  mile, 
and  now  they  were  going  back ;  and  Mabyn  was  almost  beside 
herself  with  delight  that  he  was  gone,  and  that  her  sister  had 
shown  no  great  grief  at  his  going.  Their  parting,  indeed,  had 
been  of  a  most  unromantic  kind,  much  to  the  relief  of  both.  Mr. 
Roscorla  was  rather  late ;  and  Wenna  devoted  her  last  words  to 
impressing  on  him  that  he  must  have  something  to  eat  in  Laun- 
ceston before  going  down  to  the  Plymouth  train.  Then  she  bade 
him  make  haste,  and  said  good-bye  with  a  kindly  smile  on  her 
face,  and  away  he  went. 

"  Mabyn,"  she  said,  in  a  mysterious  voice  which  stopped  her 
sister's  pulling  her  about,  "do  you  think — now,  do  you  really 
think — Mr.  Pavy  would  lend  us  his  boat?" 

"  Oh,  Wenna,"  the  other  one  cried,  "  do  let  us  have  the  boat 
out !  Do  you  know  that  the  whole  air  seems  clear  and  light  since 
Mr.  Roscorla  has  gone  ?  I  should  like  to  thank  everybody  in  the 
world  for  being  so  kind  as  to  take  him  away.  Wonna,  Til  run 
you  to  the  gate  of  Basset  Cottage  for  half  a  crown  !" 


90  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"You!"  said  the  elder  sister,  with  great  contempt.  'Til  run 
you  to  the  mill  for  a  hundred  thousand  pounds." 

"  No,  "Wcnna — Basset  Cottage,  if  you  like,"  said  Sfabyn,  sturdi- 
ly ;  and  -with  that  both  the  girls  set  out,  with  their  heads  down, 
in  a  business-like  fashion  that  showed  there  was  very  little  the 
matter  with  their  lungs. 

**  Oh,  Mabyn  !"  said  Wenna,  suddenly ;  and  then  both  of  them 
found  that  they  had  very  nearly  run  into  the  arms  of  a  clergy- 
man—  an  elderly,  white-haired,  amiable-looking  gentleman,  who 
was  rather  slowly  toiling  up  the  hill.  Mabyn  looked  frightened, 
and  then  laughed  ;  but  Wenna,  with  her  cheeks  very  red,  went 
forward  and  shook  hands  with  him. 

"Well,  girls'"  he  said,  "you  needn't  stop  running  for  me — a 
capital  exercise,  a  capital  exercise,  that  young  ladies  in  towns 
don't  have  much  of.  And  as  for  you,  Wenna,  you've  plenty  of 
work  of  a  sedentary  nature,  you  know — nothing  better  than  a 
good  race,  nothing  better." 

"  And  how  is  your  little  granddaughter  this  morning,  Mr.  Tre- 
whclla?"  said  Wenna,  gently,  with  her  cheeks  still  flushing  with 
the  running. 

"  Ah !  well,  poor  child,  she  is  much  about  the  same ;  but  the 
pincushion  is  nearly  finished  now,  and  your  name  is  on  it  in  sil- 
ver beads,  and  you  are  to  come  and  have  tea  with  her  as  soon  as 
you  can,  that  she  may  give  it  to  you.  Dear,  dear !  she  was  ask- 
ing her  mother  yesterday  whether  the  beads  would  carry  all  her 
love  to  you,  for  she  did  not  think  it  possible  herself.  Well,  good- 
bye, girls;  don't  you  be  ashamed  of  having  a  race  together." 
With  which  the  kindly-faced  clergyman  resumed  his  task  of  as- 
cending the  hill,  and  the  two  girls,  abandoning  their  racing,  walked 
quickly  down  to  the  harbor,  to  see  if  they  could  persuade  the 
silent  and  surly  Mr.  Pavy  to  let  them  have  his  boat. 

Meanwhile  Mr.  Roscorla  drove  along  the  silent  highway  in 
George  Rosewarne's  dog-cart,  and  in  due  time  he  reached  Laun- 
ceston,  and  took  the  train  for  Plymouth.  He  stayed  in  Plymouth 
that  night,  having  some  business  to  do  there ;  and  next  morning 
he  found  himself  in  the  Flying  Dutchman,  tearing  along  the 
iron  rails  towards  London. 

Now  it  was  a  fixed  habit  of  Mr.  Roscorla  to  try  to  get  as  near 
as  possible  to  a  clear  and  definite  understanding  of  his  relations 
with  the  people  and  things  around  him.     He  did  not  wish  to 


THE    TWO    PICTURES.  91 

have  anything  left  vague  and  nebulous,  even  as  regarded  a  mere 
sentiment ;  and  as  this  was  the  first  time  he  had  got  clear  away 
from  Eglosilyan  and  the  life  there  since  the  beginning  of  his  en- 
gagement, he  calmly  set  about  defining  the  position  in  which  he 
stood  with  regard  to  Wenna  Rosewarne. 

The  chief  matter  for  discontent  that  he  had  was  the  probable 
wonder  of  the  world  over  the  fact  that  he  meant  to  rrjarry  an  inn- 
keeper's daughter.  All  the  world  could  not  know  the  sufficient 
reasons  he  had  advanced  to  himself  for  that  step  ;  nor  could  they 
know  of  the  very  gradual  way  in  which  he  had  approached  it. 
Every  one  would  consider  it  as  an  abrupt  and  ludicrous  act  of 
folly ;  his  very  kindest  friends  would  call  it  an  odd  freak  of  ro- 
mance. Now  Mr.  Roscorla  felt  that  at  his  time  of  life  to  be  ac- 
cused of  romance  was  to  be  accused  of  silliness ;  and  he  resolved 
that,  whenever  he  had  a  chance,  he  would  let  people  know  that 
his  choice  of  Wenna  Rosewarne  was  dictated  by  the  most  simple 
and  commonplace  arguments  of  prudence,  such  as  would  govern 
the  conduct  of  any  sane  man. 

He  resolved,  too,  that  he  would  clearly  impress  on  Harry  Tre- 
lyon — whom  he  expected  to  see  at  Nolan's — that  this  project  of 
marriage  with  Miss  Rosewarne  was  precisely  what  a  man  of  the 
world  placed  in  his  position  would  entertain.  He  did  not  wholly 
like  Master  Harry.  There  was  an  ostentatious  air  of  youth  about 
the  young  man.  There  was  a  bluntncss  in  his  speech,  too,  that 
transgressed  the  limits  of  courtesy.  Nor  did  he  quite  admire  the 
o£E-handed  fashion  in  which  Harry  Trelyon  talked  to  the  Rose- 
warnes,  and  more  especially  to  the  girls ;  he  wished  Miss  Wenna 
Rosewarne,  at  least,  to  be  treated  with  a  little  more  formality  and 
respect.  At  the  same  time  he  would  endeavor  to  remain  good 
friends  with  this  ill-mannered  boy,  for  reasons  to  be  made  ap- 
parent. 

Wlien  he  arrived  at  Nolan's  Hotel  he  took  a  bedroom  there, 
and  then  sent  in  a  card  to  Harry  Trelyon.  He  found  that  young 
gentleman  up  on  a  chair,  trying  to  catch  a  Virginian  nightingale 
that  had  escaped  from  one  of  the  cages ;  and  he  nearly  stumbled 
over  a  tame  hedgehog  that  ran  pattering  over  the  carpet,  because 
his  attention  was  di'awn  to  a  couple  of  very  long-eared  rabbits 
sitting  in  an  easy-chair.  Master  Harry  paid  no  attention  to  him 
until  the  bird  was  caught ;  then  he  came  down,  shook  hands  with 
him  carelessly,  and  said — 


92  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  How  odd  you  should  stumble  in  liere !  Or  did  Wenna  Rose- 
wame  tell  you  I  was  at  Nolan's  ?" 

"  Yes,  Miss  Rosewarne  did,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla.  "  You  have 
quite  a  menagerie  here.     Do  you  dine  here  or  down-stairs  ?" 

"Oh  !  here,  of  course." 

"  I  thought  you  might  come  and  dine  with  me  this  evening  at 
my  club.     Five  minutes'  walk  from  here,  you  know.    "Will  you !" 

"Yes,  I  will,  if  you  don't  mind  this  elegant  costume." 

Mr.  Roscorla  was  precisely  the  person  to  mind  the  dress  of  a 
man  whom  he  was  taking  into  his  club ;  but  he  was  very  well 
aware  that,  whatever  dress  young  Trelyon  wore,  no  one  could 
mistake  him  for  anything  else  than  a  gentleman.  He  was  not  at 
all  averse  to  be  seen  with  Master  Harry  in  this  rough  costume ; 
he  merely  suggested,  with  a  smile,  that  a  few  feathers  and  bits  of 
thread  might  be  removed ;  and  then,  in  the  quiet  summer  even- 
ing, they  went  outside  and  walked  westward. 

"  Now  this  is  the  time,"  Mr.  Roscorla  said,  "  when  Pall  Mall 
looks  interesting  to  me.  There  is  a  sort  of  quiet  and  strong  ex- 
citement about  it.  All  that  smoke  there  over  the  club  chimneys 
tells  of  the  cooking  going  forward ;  and  you  will  find  old  boys 
having  a  sly  look  in  at  the  dining-room  to  see  that  their  tables  are 
all  right ;  and  then  friends  come  in,  and  smooth  out  their  white 
ties,  and  have  a  drop  of  sherry  and  Angostura  bitters  while  they 
wait.  All  this  district  is  full  of  a  silent  satisfaction  and  hope  just 
now.  But  I  can't  get  you  a  good  dinner,  Trelyon ;  you'll  have  to 
take  your  chance,  you  know.  I  have  got  out  of  the  ways  of  the 
club  now ;  I  don't  know  what  they  can  do." 

"  Well,  I'm  not  nasty  partickler,"  Trelyon  said;  which  was  true. 
"  But  what  has  brought  you  up  to  London  ?" 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  you.  It's  rather  an  awkward  business  one  way. 
I  have  got  a  share  in  some  sugar  and  coffee  plantations  in  Jamaica 
— I  think  you  know  that — and  you  are  aware  that  the  emancipa- 
tion of  the  niggers  simply  cut  the  throat  of  the  estates  there. 
The  beggars  won't  work ;  and  lots  of  the  plantations  have  been 
going  down  and  down,  or  rather  back  and  back  into  the  original 
wilderness.  Well,  my  partners  here  see  no  way  out  of  it  but  one 
— to  import  labor,  have  the  plantations  thoroughly  overhauled  and 
set  in  good  working  order.  But  that  wants  money.  They  have 
got  money — I  haven't ;  and  so,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  am  at  my 
wit's  end  as  how  to  raise  a  few  thousands  to  join  them  in  the  un- 
dertakinor." 


THE    TWO    PICTURES.  93 

This  piece  of  intelligence  ratlier  startled  Harry  Trelyon.  He 
instantly  recalled  the  project  which  had  brought  himself  to  Lon- 
don, and  asked  himself  whether  he  was  prepared  to  give  a  sum  of 
£5000  to  Wenna  Rosewarne,  merely  that  it  should  be  transferred 
by  her  to  her  husband,  Avho  would  forthwith  embark  in  specula- 
tion with  it.    Well,  he  was  not  prepared  to  do  that  oS-hand. 

They  went  into  the  club,  which  was  in  St.  James's  Street,  and 
Mr.  Roscorla  ordered  a  quiet  little  dinner,  the  memi  of  which  was 
constructed  with  a  neatness  and  skill  altogether  thrown  away  on 
his  guest.  In  due  time  Master  Harry  sat  down  at  the  small  table, 
and  accepted  with  much  indifference  the  delicacies  which  his  com- 
panion had  prepared  for  him.  But  all  the  same  he  enjoyed  his 
dinner — particularly  a  draught  of  ale  he  had  with  his  cheese  ;  af- 
ter which  the  two  strangers  went  up  to  a  quiet  corner  in  the  smok- 
ing-room, lay  down  in  a  couple  of  big  easy-chairs,  and  lit  their 
cigars.  During  dinner  their  talk  had  mostly  been  about  shooting, 
varied  with  anecdotes  which  Mr.  Roscorla  told  of  men  about  town. 

Now,  however,  Mr.  Roscorla  became  more  communicative  about 
his  own  affairs ;  and  it  seemed  to  Trelyon  that  these  were  rather 
in  a  bad  way.  And  it  also  occurred  to  him  that  there  was  per- 
haps a  little  meanness  in  his  readiness  to  give  £5000  direct  to 
Wenna  Rosewarne,  and  in  his  disinclination  to  lend  the  same  sum 
to  her  future  husband,  whose  interests,  of  course,  would  be  hers. 

"  Look  here,  Roscorla,"  he  said.  "  Honor  bright,  do  you  think 
you  can  make  anything  out  of  this  scheme ;  or  is  the  place  like 
one  of  those  beastly  old  mines  in  which  you  throw  good  money 
after  bad  ?" 

Roscorla  answered,  honestly  enough — but  with  perhaps  a  trifle 
unnecessary  emphasis,  Avhen  he  saw  that  the  young  man  Avas  in- 
clined to  accept  the  hint — that  he  believed  the  project  to  be  a 
sound  one  ;  that  his  partners  were  putting  far  more  money  into  it 
than  he  would ;  that  the  merchants  who  were  his  agents  in  Lon- 
don knew  the  property  and  approved  of  the  scheme ;'  and  that,  if 
he  could  raise  the  money,  he  would  himself  go  out,  in  a  few 
months'  time,  to  sec  the  thing  properly  started. 

He  did  not  press  the  matter  further  than  that  for  the  present ; 
and  so  their  talk  drifted  away  into  other  channels,  until  it  found 
its  way  back  to  Eglosilyan,  to  the  Rosewarnes,  and  to  Wenna. 
That  is  to  say,  Mr.  Roscorla  spoke  of  Wenna ;  Trelyon  was  gen- 
erally silent  on  that  one  point. 


94  THREE    FEATHERS. 

**  You  must  not  imagine,"  Koscorla  said,  witli  a  smile,  "  that  I 
took  this  step  without  much  deliberation." 

"  So  did  she,  I  suppose,"  Trelyon  said,  rather  coldly. 

"  Well,  yes.  Doubtless.  But  I  dare  say  many  people  "will  think 
it  rather  strange  that  I  should  marry  an  innkeepers  daughter — 
they  will  think  I  have  been  struck  with  a  sudden  fit  of  idiotic 
romance." 

"  Oh  no,  I  don't  think  so,"  the  lad  said,  Avith  nothing  visible  in 
his  face  to  tell  whether  he  were  guilty  of  a  mere  blunder  or  of  in- 
tentional impertinence.  "  Many  elderly  gentlemen  marry  their 
housekeepers,  and  in  most  cases  wisely,  as  far  as  I  have  seen." 

"  Oh !  but  that  is  another  thing,"  Roscorla  said,  with  his  face 
flushing  slightly,  and  inclined  to  be  ill-tempered.  "There  is  a 
great  difference :  I  am  not  old  enough  to  want  a  nurse  yet.  I 
have  chosen  Miss  Rosewarne  because  she  is  possessed  of  certain 
qualities  calculated  to  make  her  an  agreeable  companion  for  a  man 
like  myself.  I  have  done  it  quite  deliberately  and  with  my  eyes 
open.  I  am  not  blinded  by  the  vanity  that  makes  a  boy  insist  on 
havino"  a  particular  girl  become  his  wife  because  she  has  a  pretty 
face  and  he  wants  to  show  her  to  his  friends." 

"And  yet  there  is  not  much  the  matter  with  Wenna  Rose- 
wame's  face,"  said  Trelyon,  with  the  least  suggestion  of  sarcasm. 

"  Oh  1  as  for  that,"  Roscorla  said,  "  that  does  not  concern  a 
man  who  looks  at  life  from  my  point  of  view.  Certainly,  therd 
are  plainer  faces  than  Miss  Rosewarne's.  She  has  good  eyes  and 
teeth ;  and,  besides  that,  she  has  a  good  figure,  you  know." 

Both  these  men,  as  they  lay  idling  in  the  smoking-room,  were 
now  thinking  of  Wenna  Rosewarne,  and  indolently  and  inadvert- 
ently forming  some  picture  of  her  in  their  minds.  Of  the  two, 
that  of  Mr.  Roscorla  was  by  far  the  more  accurate.  He  could 
have  described  every  feature  of  her  face  and  every  article  of  her 
dress,  as  she  appeared  to  him  on  bidding  him  good-bye  the  day 
before  on  the  Launceston  highway.  The  dress  Avas  a  soft  light- 
brown,  touched  here  and  there  with  deep  and  rich  cherry  color, 
llcr  face  was  turned  sideways  to  him,  and  looking  up ;  the  lips 
partly  open  with  a  friendly  smile,  and  showing  beautiful  teeth ; 
the  earnest  dark  eyes  filled  with  a  kindly  regard ;  the  eyebrows 
high,  so  that  they  gave  a  timid  and  wondering  look  to  the  face ; 
the  forehead  low  and  sweet,  with  some  loose  brown  hair  about 
it  that  the  wind  stirred.     lie  knew  every  feature  of  that  face 


THE    TWO    PICTURES.  95 

and  every  varying  look  of  the  eyes,  wlietlier  they  were  pleased 
and  grateful,  or  sad  and  distant,  or  overbrimming  with  a  humor- 
ous and  malicious  fun.  He  knew  the  shape  of  her  hands,  the 
graceful  poise  of  her  waist  and  neck,  the  very  way  she  put  down 
her  foot  in  walking.  He  was  thoroughly  well  aware  of  the  ap- 
pearance which  the  girl  he  meant  to  marry  presented  to  the  un- 
biassed eyes  of  the  world. 

Harry  Trelyon's  mental  picture  of  her  was  far  more  vague  and 
unsatisfactory.  Driven  into  a  corner,  he  would  have  admitted  to 
you  that  Wenna  Rosewarne  was  not  very  good-looking ;  but  that 
would  not  have  affected  his  fixed  and  private  belief  that  he  knew 
no  woman  who  had  so  beautiful  and  tender  a  face.  For  some- 
how, when  he  thought  of  her,  he  seemed  to  see  her,  as  he  had 
often  seen  her,  go  by  him  on  a  summer  morning  on  her  way  to 
church ;  and  as  the  sweet,  small  Puritan  would  turn  to  him,  and 
say  in  her  gentle  way,  "  Good-morning,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  he  would 
feel  vexed  and  ashamed  that  he  had  been  found  with  a  gun  in  his 
hand,  and  be  inclined  to  heave  it  into  the  nearest  ditch.  Then 
she  would  go  on  her  way,  along  between  the  green  hedges,  in  the 
summer  light ;  and  the  look  of  her  face  that  remained  in  his  mem- 
ory was  as  the  look  of  an  angel,  calm  and  sweet,  and  never  to  be 
forgotten. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla  in  this  smoking-room,  "  if  I  go 
to  Jamaica,  I  must  get  married  before  I  start." 


CHAPTER  XH. 

THE     CHAIN     TIGHTENS. 


Once,  and  once  only,  Wenna  broke  down.  She  had  gone  out 
into  the  night  all  by  herself,  with  some  vague  notion  that  the 
cold,  dank  sea-air — sweet  with  the  scent  of  the  roses  in  the  cot- 
tage gardens — would  be  gratefully  cool  as  it  came  around  her  face. 
The  day  had  been  stormy,  and  the  sea  was  high — she  could  hear 
the  waves  dashing  in  on  the  rocks  at  the  mouth  of  the  harbor — 
but  the  heavens  were  clear,  and  over  the  dark  earth  the  great  vault 
of  stars  throbbed  and  burned  in  silence.  She  was  alone,  for  Mr. 
Roscorla  had  not  returned  from  London,  and  Mabyn  had  not  no- 


96  THREE    FEATHERS. 

ticcd  lier  slipping  out.  And  lierc,  in  the  cool,  sweet  darkness,  the 
waves  seemed  to  call  on  her  with  a  low  and  melancholy  voice. 
A  great  longing  and  trouhle  came  somehow  into  her  heart,  and 
drove  her  to  wander  onwards  as  if  she  should  find  rest  in  the 
mere  loneliness  of  the  night,  until  at  length  there  was  nothing 
around  her  hut  the  dark  land  and  the  sea  and  the  white  stars. 

She  could  not  tell  what  wild  and  sad  feeling  this  was  that  had 
taken  possession  of  her ;  but  she  knew  that  she  had  suddenly  fall- 
en away  from  the  calm  content  of  the  wife  that  was  to  be — with 
all  the  pleasant  sensation  of  gratitude  towards  him  who  had  hon- 
ored her,  and  the  no  less  pleasant  consciousness  that  her  impor- 
tance in  the  world,  and  her  power  of  helping  the  people  around 
her,  were  indefinitely  increased.  She  had  become  again  the  plain 
Jim  Crow  of  former  days,  longing  to  be  able  to  do  some  indefi- 
nitely noble  and  unselfish  thing — ready,  indeed,  to  lay  her  life 
down  so  that  she  might  earn  some  measure  of  kindly  regard  by 
the  sacrifice.  And  once  more  she  reflected  that  she  had  no  great 
influence  in  the  world,  that  she  was  of  no  account  to  anybody, 
that  she  was  plain  and  small  and  insignificant ;  and  the  great  de- 
sire in  her  heart  of  being  of  distinct  and  beautiful  service  to  the 
many  people  whom  she  loved  seemed  to  break  itself  against  these 
narrow  bars,  until  the  cry  of  the  sea  around  her  was  a  cry  of  pain, 
and  the  stars  looked  coldly  down  on  her,  and  even  God  himself 
seemed  far  away  and  indifferent. 

"  K  I  could  only  tell  some  one — if  I  could  only  tell  some  one  !" 
she  was  saying  to  herself  wildly,  as  she  walked  rapidly  onwards, 
not  seeing  very  well  where  she  was  going,  for  her  eyes  were  full 
of  tears.  "  But  if  I  tell  Mabyn  she  will  say  that  I  fear  this  mar- 
riage, and  go  straight  to  Mr.  Roscorla ;  and  if  I  tell  my  mother  she 
will  think  me  ungrateful  to  him,  and  to  every  one  around  me. 
And  how  can  I  explain  to  them  what  I  cannot  explain  to  myself? 
And  if  I  cannot  explain  it  to  myself,  is  it  not  mere  folly  to  yield 
to  such  a  feeling?" 

The  question  was  easily  asked  and  easily  answered ;  and  with 
much  show  of  bravery  she  proceeded  to  ask  herself  other  ques- 
tions, less  easily  answered.  She  began  to  reproach  herself  with 
ingratitude,  with  vanity,  with  a  thousand  errors  and  evil  qualities : 
she  would  teach  herself  humility ;  she  would  endeavor  to  be  con- 
tented and  satisfied  in  the  position  in  which  she  found  herself; 
she  would  reflect  on  the  thousands  of  miserable  people  who  had 


THE    CHAIN    TIGHTENS.  97 

real  reason  to  complain,  and  yet  bore  their  sufferings  with  forti- 
tude ;  and  she  would  now — straightway  and  at  once — return  to 
her  room,  get  out  the  first  letter  Mr.  Roscorla  had  written  to  her, 
and  convince  herself  once  more  that  she  ought  to  be  happy. 

The  climax  was  a  strange  one.  She  had  been  persuading  her- 
self that  there  was  no  real  cause  for  this  sudden  fit  of  doubt  and 
wretchedness.  She  had  been  anticipating  her  sister's  probable 
explanation,  and  dismissing  it.  And  yet,  as  she  turned  and  walk- 
ed back  along  the  narrow  path  leading  down  to  the  bridge,  she 
comforted  herself  with  the  notion  that  Mr.  Roscorla's  letter  would 
reassure  her  and  banish  these  imaginary  sorrows.  She  had  fre- 
quently read  over  that  letter,  and  she  knew  that  its  ingenious  and 
lucid  arguments  were  simply  incontrovertible. 

"  Oh,  Wenna  !"  Mabyn  cried,  "  what  has  been  troubling  you  ? 
Do  you  know  that  your  face  is  quite  white  ?  Have  you  been  out 
all  by  yourself  ?" 

Wenna,  on  getting  home,  had  gone  into  the  little  snuggery 
which  was  once  a  bar,  and  which  was  now  George  Rosewarne's 
smoking-room.  Mabyn  and  her  father  had  been  playing  chess — 
the  board  and  pieces  were  still  on  the  table.  Wenna  sat  down, 
apparently  a  little  tired. 

"  Yes,  I  have  been  out  for  a  walk,"  she  said. 

"  Wenna,  tell  me  what  is  the  matter  with  you !"  the  younger 
sister  said,  imperatively. 

"  There  is  nothing  the  matter.  Well,  I  suppose  you  will  tease 
me  until  I  tell  you  something.  I  have  had  a  fit  of  despondency, 
Mabyn,  and  that's  all — despondency,  over  nothing;  and  now  I 
am  quite  cured,  and  do  you  think  Jennifer  could  get  me  a  cup  of 
tea  ?  Well,  why  do  you  stare  ?  Is  there  anything  wonderful  in 
it  ?  I  suppose  every  girl  must  get  frightened  a  little  bit  when  she 
thinks  of  all  that  may  happen  to  her — especially  when  she  is 
alone — and  of  course  it  is  very  ungrateful  of  her  to  have  any 
such  doubts,  though  they  mean  nothing,  and  she  ought  to  be 
ashamed — " 

She  stopped  suddenly.  To  her  dismay  she  found  that  she  was 
admitting  to  Mabyn  the  very  reasons  which  she  expected  to  have 
to  combat.  She  saw  what  she  had  done  in  the  expression  of 
Mabyn's  face — in  the  proud,  indignant  mouth  and  the  half-con- 
cealed anger  of  the  eyes.  The  younger  sister  was  silent  for  a 
minute,  and  then  she  said,  passionately — 

E 


98  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  If  there's  any  one  to  be  ashamed,  it  isn't  you,  Wenna.  I 
know  who  it  is.  As  for  you,  I  don't  know  what  has  come  over 
you  of  late — you  are  trying  to  be  meeker  and  meeker,  and  more 
humble,  and  more  grateful — and  all  for  what?  What  haA'c  you 
to  be  grateful  for  ?  And  you  are  losing  all  your  fun  and  your 
good  spirits ;  and  you  are  getting  to  be  just  like  children  in  the 
story-books,  that  repeat  texts  and  get  gooder  and  gooder  every 
day  until  they  are  only  fit  for  heaven  ;  and  I  am  sure  I  am  always 
glad  when  the  little  beasts  die.  Oh,  Wenna,  I  would  rather  sec 
you  do  the  wickedest  thing  in  all  the  world  if  it  would  only  bring 
you  back  to  your  old  self !" 

"AYhy,  you  foolish  girl,  I  am  my  old  self,"  the  elder  sister 
said,  quietly  taking  off  her  bonnet  and  laying  it  on  the  table.  "  Is 
Jennifer  up-stairs?     Who  is  in  the  parlor?" 

"  Oh,  your  sweetheart  is  in  the  parlor,"  said  Mabyn,  with  bad- 
ly concealed  contempt.  "He  is  just  arrived  from  London.  I 
suppose  he  is  telling  mother  about  his  rheumatism." 

"  He  hasn't  got  any  rheumatism — any  more  than  you  have," 
AVenna  said,  with  some  asperity. 

"  Oh  yes,  he  has,"  the  younger  sister  said,  inventing  a  diabol- 
ical story  for  the  mere  purpose  of  getting  Wenna  into  a  rage. 
She  would  rather  have  her  in  a  succession  of  tempers  than  the 
victim  of  this  chastened  meekness.  "And  gout  too — I  can  see' 
by  the  color  of  his  nails.  Of  course  he  hasn't  told  you,  for  you're 
such  a  simpleton  he  takes  advantage  of  you.  And  he  is  near- 
sighted, but  he  pretends  he  doesn't  need  spectacles.  And  I  am 
told  he  has  fearful  debts  hanging  over  his  head  in  London,  and 
that  lie  only  came  here  to  hide ;  and  if  you  marry  him  you'll  see 
what  will  come  to  you." 

;Mabyn  was  not  very  successful  in  making  her  sister  angry. 
Wenna  only  laughed  in  her  gentle  fashion,  and  put  her  light  shawl 
beside  her  bonnet,  and  then  Avcnt  along  the  passage  to  the  parlor, 
in  which  Mr.  Roscorla  and  her  mother  were  talking. 

The  meeting  of  the  lovers  after  their  temporary  separation  was 
not  an  impassioned  one.  They  shook  hands ;  AVenna  hoped  he 
was  not  fatigued  by  the  long  journey ;  and  then  he  resumed  his 
task  of  describing  to  Mrs.  Rosewarne  the  extraordinary  appear- 
ance of  Trelyon's  sitting-room  in  Nolan's  Hotel,  after  the  young 
gentleman  had  filled  it  with  birds  and  beasts.  Presently,  how- 
ever, Wenna's  mother  made  some  pretence  for  getting  out  of  the 


THE    CHAIN    TIGHTENS.  99 

room,  and  Mr,  Roscorla  and  his  betrothed  were  left  alone.  He 
rarely  got  such  an  opportunity. 

"  Wenna,  I  have  brought  you  the  ring,"  said  he ;  and  with  that 
he  took  a  small  case  from  his  pocket,  and  opened  it,  and  produced 
a  very  pretty  gipsy  ring  studded  with  emeralds. 

Now  on  the  journey  down  from  London  he  had  definitely  re- 
solved that  he  would  put  an  end  to  that  embarrassment  or  shame- 
facedness  which  had  hitherto  prevented  his  offering  to  kiss  the 
girl  whom  he  expected  to  marry.  He  was  aware  that  there  was 
something  ridiculous  in  his  not  having  done  so.  He  reflected 
that  scarcely  any  human  being  would  believe  that  he  could  have 
been  such  a  fool.  And  it  occurred  to  him,  in  the  train,  that  the 
occasion  of  his  giving  Wenna  her  engaged  ring  would  be  an  ex- 
cellent opportunity  for  breaking  in  upon  this  absurd  delicacy. 

He  went  across  the  room  to  her.  She  sat  still,  perhaps  a  little 
paler  than  usual.  He  took  her  hand,  and  put  the  ring  on,  and 
then — 

Then  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  there  was  something 
devilish  in  the  notion  of  his  purchasing  the  right  to  kiss  her  by 
giving  her  a  trinket.  Not  that  any  such  scruple  would  otherwise 
have  affected  him ;  but  he  was  nervously  sensitive  as  to  what  she 
might  think  ;  and  doubtless  she  w' as  familiar  with  the  story  of  Mar- 
gai'ethe  and  Faust's  casket  of  jewels.  So  he  suddenly  said,  Avith 
an  air  of  carelessness — 

"  Well,  do  you  like  it  ?  You  can't  quite  tell  the  color  of  the 
stones  by  lamplight,  you  know." 

Wenna  was  not  thinking  of  the  color  of  the  stones.  Her  hand 
trembled ;  her  heart  beat  quickly ;  when  she  did  manage  to  an- 
swer him,  it  was  merely  to  say,  in  a  confused  fashion,  that  she 
thought  the  ring  very  beautiful  indeed. 

"  You  know,"  he  said,  with  a  laugh,  "  I  don't  think  men  like 
engaged  rings  quite  as  well  as  girls  do.  A  girl  generally  seems 
to  take  such  a  fancy  for  an  engaged  ring  that  she  won't  change 
it  for  any  other.  I  hope  that  won't  be  in  your  case,  Wenna  ;  and, 
indeed,  I  wanted  to  talk  to  you  about  it." 

He  brought  a  chair  close  to  her,  and  sat  down  by  her,  and  took 
her  hand.  Now,  ordinarily  Wcnna's  small,  white,  plump  hands 
were  so  warm  that  her  sister  used  to  say  that  they  tingled  to  the 
very  tips  of  her  fingers  with  kindness,  and  were  always  wanting  to 
give  away  something.     The  hand  which  Mr.  Roscorla  held  Avas  as 


100  THREE    FEATHERS. 

cold  and  as  impassive  as  ice.  He  did  not  notice  it :  he  was  en- 
gaged in  preparing  sentences. 

"  You  know,  Wenna,"  said  he,  "  that  I  am  not  a  rich  man. 
TMien  I  might  have  taught  myself  to  work  I  had  just  sufficient 
income  to  keep  me  idle ;  and  now  that  this  income  is  growing 
less,  and  when  I  have  greater  claims  on  it,  I  must  try  somethino-. 
Well,  my  partners  and  myself  have  thought  of  a  scheme  which  I 
think  will  turn  out  all  right.  They  propose  to  wake  up  those 
estates  in  Jamaica,  and  see  if  they  can't  be  made  to  produce 
something  like  what  they  used  to  produce.  That  wants  money. 
They  have  it :  I  have  not.  It  is  true  I  have  been  offered  the  loan 
of  a  few  thousand  pounds ;  but  even  if  I  accept  it — and  I  sup- 
pose I  must — that  would  not  put  me  on  an  equal  footing  with 
the  other  men  who  are  going  into  the  affair.  This,  however,  I 
could  do :  I  could  go  out  there  and  do  all  in  my  power  to  look 
after  their  interests  and  my  own — sec,  in  fact,  that  the  money  was 
being  properly  expended,  before  it  was  too  late.  Now  I  might  be 
there  a  very  long  time." 

"  Yes,"  said  Wenna,  in  a  low  voice,  and  rather  inappropriately. 

"  Now  don't  let  me  alarm  you ;  but  do  you  think — do  you  not 
think,  in  view  of  what  might  be  rather  a  long  separation,  that  we 
ought  to  get  married  before  I  go  ?" 

She  suddenly  and  inadvertently  withdrew  her  hand. 

"  But  don't  make  any  mistake,  AVenna,"  he  said  ;  "  I  did  not 
propose  you  should  go  with  me.  That  would  be  asking  too 
much,  I  don't  wish  to  take  you  to  the  West  Indies ;  because  I 
might  be  there  only  for  a  few  months.  All  I  wish  is  to  have  the 
bond  that  unites  us  already  made  fast  before  I  go,  merely  as  a 
comfortable  thing  to  tlunk  of,  don't  you  sec  ?" 

"  Oh,  it  is  too  hasty — I  am  afraid — why  should  we  be  in  such 
a  hurry  ?"  the  girl  said,  still  with  her  heart  beating  so  that  she 
could  scarcely  speak. 

"  No,"  he  argued,  "  you  must  not  make  another  mistake.  Be- 
fore this  scheme  can  be  matured,  months  must  elapse.  I  may 
not  have  to  go  out  before  the  beginning  of  next  year.  Now 
surely  other  six  months  would  make  a  sufficiently  long  engage- 
ment." 

"  Oh,  but  the  pledge  is  so  terrible,"  she  said,  and  scarcely  know- 
ing what  she  said. 

Mr.  Roscorla  was  at  once  astonished  and  vexed.    That  was  cer- 


THE    CHAIN    TIGHTENS.  101 

tainly  not  the  mood  in  wliich  a  girl  ought  to  look  forward  to  lier 
marriage.  He  could  not  understand  this  dread  on  her  part.  He 
began  to  ask  himself  whether  she  would  like  to  enjoy  the  self-im- 
portance that  her  engagement  had  bestowed  on  her — the  atten- 
tions he  paid  her,  the  assistance  he  gave  her  in  her  charitable 
labors,  and  the  sort  of  sovereignty  over  a  man  which  a  girl  en- 
joys during  the  betrothal  period — for  an  indefinite  time,  or  per- 
haps with  the  hope  that  the  sudden  destruction  of  all  these 
things  by  marriage  might  never  arrive  at  all.  Then  he  began  to 
get  a  little  angry,  and  got  up  from  the  chair,  and  walked  once  or 
twice  up  and  down  the  room. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  don't  understand  you,  I  confess.  Except 
in  this  way,  that  our  relations  with  each  other  have  not  been  so 
openly  affectionate  as  they  might  have  been.  That  I  admit.  Per- 
haps it  was  my  fault.  I  suppose,  for  example,  you  have  been  sur- 
prised that  I  never  offered  to  kiss  you  ?" 

There  was  something  almost  of  a  threat  in  the  last  few  words ; 
and  Wenna,  with  her  cheeks  suddenly  burning  red,  anxiously  has- 
tened to  say — 

"  Oh,  not  at  all.  It  was  my  fault.  I  am  sure  if  there  was  too 
great  reserve  it  was  my  fault ;  but  I  do  not  think  there  has  been. 
It  is  not  that  at  all ;  but  your  wish  seems  so  sudden,  and  so  un- 
necessary." 

"  Don't  you  see,"  he  said,  interrupting  her,  *'  that  if  our  rela- 
tions at  present  are  not  sufficiently  frank  and  confidential,  nothing 
will  mend  that  so  easily  as  our  marriage  ?  And  this  that  I  ask 
of  you  ought  to  be  as  agreeable  to  you  as  to  me — that  is  to 
say-" 

He  stopped,  with  a  look  of  impatience  on  his  face.  There  was 
some  one  coming  along  the  passage.  He  knew  who  it  was,  too  ; 
for  a  young  girl's  voice  was  doing  its  best  to  imitate  in  a  bur- 
lesque fashion  a  young  man's  voice ;  and  Mr.  Roscorla  had  already 
heard  Harry  Trelyon,  as  he  rode  or  drove  carelessly  along,  bawling 
to  himself,  "  Oh,  the  men  of  merry,  merry  England  !"  He  knew 
that  his  old  enemy  Mabyn  was  at  hand. 

That  very  clever  imitation  of  Harry  Trelyon  w-as  all  the  warn- 
ing that  the  young  lady  in  question  condescended  to  give  of  her 
approach.  She  opened  the  door  without  ceremony,  marched  into 
the  middle  of  the  room,  and  proudly  placed  a  bird-cage  on  the 
table. 


102  THREE    FEATHERS. 

*'  There,"  said  she,  "  can  cither  of  you  tell  me  what  that  bird 
is  ?" 

*'  Of  course  I  can,"  said  Wenna,  rising  with  a  sensation  of  great 

relief. 

"  No,  you  can't,"  her  sister  said,  dogmatically.  "  It  is  sent  to 
you  with  Mr.  Harry  Trelyon's  compliments ;  and  it  is  something 
very  wonderful  indeed.  "What  is  it,  ladies  and  gentlemen  ?  Don't 
answer  all  at  once !" 

"  Why,  it  is  only—" 

"  A  piping  bullfinch — that's  what  it  is  "  said  Mabyn,  triumph- 
antly. 


CHAPTER  XHI. 

AN    UNEXPECTED    CONVERT. 


Next  morning  was  Sunday  morning ;  and  Wenna,  having  many 
things  to  think  over  by  herself,  started  off  alone  to  church,  some 
little  time  before  the  others,  and  chose  a  circuitous  route  to  the 
small  building  which  stands  on  the  high  uplands  over  the  sea.  It 
Avas  a  beautiful  morning,  still  and  peaceful,  with  the  warmth  of 
the  sunlight  cooled  by  a  refreshing  western  breeze ;  and  as  she 
went  along  and  up  the  valley,  her  heart  gradually  forgot  its  cares, 
for  she  was  listening  to  the  birds  singing,  and  picking  up  an  oc- 
casional wild  flower,  or  watching  the  slow  white  clouds  across  the 
blue  sky.  And  as  she  walked  quietly  along  in  this  way,  finding 
her  life  the  sweeter  for  the  sweet  air  and  the  abundant  color  and 
brightness  of  all  the  things  around  her,  it  chanced  that  she  saw 
Harry  Trelyon  coming  across  one  of  the  meadows,  evidently  with 
the  intention  of  bidding  her  good-morning ;  and  she  thought  she 
would  stop  and  thank  him  for  having  sent  her  the  bullfinch.  This 
she  did  very  prettily  when  he  came  up ;  and  he,  Avith  something 
of  a  blush  on  his  handsome  face,  said — 

"  I  thought  you  Avouldn't  be  offended.  One  can  use  more 
freedom  with  you  now  that  you  are  as  good  as  married,  you 
know." 

She  quickly  got  away  from  that  subject  by  asking  him  wheth- 
er he  was  coming  to  church ;  and  to  that  question  he  replied  by 
rather  a  scornful  laugh,  and  by  asking  what  the  parsons  Avould  say 


AN  UNEXPECTED  CONVERT.  103 

if  lie  took  a  gun  into  the  family  pew.  In  fact,  ke  had  brought 
out  an  air-cane  to  test  its  carrying  powers  ;  and  he  now  bore  it 
over  his  shoulder. 

"  I  think  you  might  have  left  the  gun  at  home  on  a  Sunday 
morning,"  Miss  Wenna  said,  in  rather  a  precise  fashion.  "  And, 
do  you  know,  Mr.  Trelyon,  I  can't  understand  why  you  should 
speak  in  that  way  about  clergymen,  when  you  say  yourself  that 
you  always  avoid  them,  and  don't  know  anything  about  them. 
It  reminds  me  of  a  stable-boy  we  once  had  who  used  to  amuse 
the  other  lads  by  being  impertinent  to  every  stranger  who  might 
pass,  simply  because  the  stranger  was  a  stranger." 

This  was  a  deadly  thrust ;  and  the  tall  young  gentleman  flushed, 
and  was  obviously  a  trifle  angry.  Did  she  mean  to  convey  that  he 
had  acquired  his  manners  from  stable-boys  ? 

"  Parsons  and  churches  are  too  good  for  the  likes  o'  me,"  he 
said,  contemptuously.  "  'Morning,  Miss  Rosewarne,"  and  with 
that  he  walked  off. 

But  about  three  minutes  thereafter,  when  she  was  peacefully 
continuing  her  Avay,  he  overtook  her  again,  and  said  to  her,  in 
rather  a  shamefaced  fashion — 

"  I  hope  you  don't  think  I  meant  to  be  rude  to  you,  Miss  Wen- 
na. I'll  go  to  church  with  you  if  you  like.  I've  stuck  my  air- 
cane  in  a  safe  place." 

Wenna's  face  brightened. 

"  I  shall  be  very  glad,"  she  said,  with  a  smile  far  more  frank 
and  friendly  than  any  she  had  ever  yet  bestowed  on  him.  "  And 
I  am  sure  if  you  came  often  to  hear  Mr.  Trewhella,  or  if  you  knew 
him,  you  would  think  differently  about  clergymen." 

"Oh,  well,"  Trelyon  said,  "he's  a  good  sort  of  old  chap,  I 
think.  I  find  no  fault  with  him.  But  look  at  such  a  fellow 
as  that  Barnes — why,  that  fellow's  son  was  with  me  at  Rugby, 
and  wasn't  he  a  pretty  chip  of  the  old  block — a  mean,  lying  lit- 
tle beggar,  who  would  do  anything  to  get  a  half-crown  out  of 
you." 

"  Oh,  were  you  at  Rugby  ?"  Wenna  asked,  innocently. 

"  I  don't  wonder  at  your  asking,"  her  companion  said,  with  a 
grin.  "  You  think  it  doesn't  look  as  if  I  had  ever  been  to  any 
school  ?  Oh  yes,  I  was  at  Rugby  ;  and  my  career  there,  if  brief, 
was  not  inglorious.  I  think  the  records  of  all  the  eight  Ilouses 
might  be  searched  in  vain  to  find  such  another  ruffian  as  I  was,  or 


104  THREE    FEATHERS. 

any  one  -who  managed  to  get  into  the  same  number  of  scrapes  in 
tlie  same  time.  The  end  was  dramatic.  They  -wouldn't  let  me 
go  to  a  ball  in  the  town-hall.  I  had  vowed  I  should  be  there ; 
and  I  got  out  of  the  House  at  night  and  went.  And  I  hadn't 
been  in  the  place  ten  minutes  when  I  saw  the  very  master  who 
had  refused  me  fix  his  glittering  eye  on  me ;  so,  as  I  knew  it  was 
all  over,  I  merely  went  up  to  him  and  asked  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  being  introduced  to  his  daughter.  I  thought  he'd  have  had  a 
fit.  But  that  little  brute  Barnes  I  was  telling  you  about,  ho  was 
our  champion  bun-eater.  At  that  time,  you  know,  they  used  to 
give  you  as  many  buns  as  ever  you  liked  on  Shrove  Tuesday ;  and 
the  Houses  used  to  eat  against  each  other,  and  this  fellow  Barnes 
was  our  champion ;  and,  oh  Lord !  the  number  he  stowed  away 
that  morning.  When  we  went  to  chapel  afterwards,  he  was  as 
green  as  a  leek." 

"  But  do  you  dislike  clergymen  because  Master  Barnes  ate  too 
many  buns  ?"  Wenna  asked,  with  a  gentle  smile,  which  rather  ag- 
grieved her  companion. 

"Do  you  know,"  said  he, "  I  think  you  are  awfully  hard  on  me. 
You  are  always  trying  to  catch  me  up.  Here  am  I  walking  to 
church  with  you,  like  an  angel  of  submission,  and  all  the  thanks  I 
get —     Why,  there  goes  my  mother!" 

Just  in  front  of  them,  and  a  sliort  distance  from  the  church,  the 
road  they  were  following  joined  the  main  highway  leading  up  from 
Eglosilyan,  and  along  the  latter  Mrs.  Trelyon's  brougham  was  driv- 
ing past.  That  lady  was  very  much  astonished  to  find  her  son 
walking  with  Miss  Wenna  Rosewarne  on  a  Sunday  morning ;  and 
still  more  surprised  when,  after  she  was  in  church,  she  beheld  Mas- 
ter Harry  walk  coolly  in  and  march  up  to  the  family  pew.  Here, 
indeed,  was  a  revolution.  AVhich  of  all  the  people  assembled — 
among  whom  were  Miss  Mabyn  and  her  mother,  and  Mr.  Roscor- 
la— had  ever  seen  the  like  of  this  before  ?  And  it  was  all  the 
greater  Avonder  that  the  young  gentleman  in  the  rough  shooting- 
coat  found  two  clergymen  in  the  pew,  and  nevertheless  entered  it, 
and  quietly  accepted  from  one  of  them  a  couple  of  books. 

Mrs.  Trelyon's  gentle  and  emotional  heart  warmed  towards  the 
girl  who  had  done  this  thing. 

That  forenoon,  just  before  luncheon,  Mrs.  Trelyon  found  her 
son  in  the  library,  and  said  to  him,  with  an  unusual  kindliness  of 
manner — 


AN  UNEXPECTED  CONVERT,  105 

*'  That  was  Miss  Rosewarne,  Harry,  wasn't  it,  whom  I  saw  this 
morning  ?" 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  sulkily.  He  half  expected  that  one  or  other  of 
his  friends,  the  parsons,  had  been  saying  something  about  her  to 
his  mother. 

"  She  is  a  very  quiet,  nice-looking  girl ;  I  am  sure  Mr.  Roscorla 
has  acted  wisely,  after  all.  And  I  have  been  thinking,  Harry,  that 
since  she  is  a  friend  of  yours,  we  might  do  something  like  what 
you  proposed,  only  not  in  a  way  to  make  people  talk." 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  "  I  have  done  it  already.  I  have  promised 
to  lend  Roscorla  five  thousand  pounds  to  help  him  to  work  his 
Jamaica  estates.  If  you  don't  like  to  sanction  the  affair,  I  can 
get  the  money  from  the  Jews.  I  have  written  to  Colonel  Ran- 
some  to  tell  him  so." 

'*  Now  why  should  you  treat  me  so,  Harry  ?"  his  mother  said. 

"  I  took  you  at  your  word — that's  all.  I  suppose  now  you  are 
better  disposed  to  the  girl  merely  because  she  got  me  to  go  to 
church  this  morning.  If  there  were  more  people  like  her  about 
churches,  in  the  pulpits  and  out  of  them,  I'd  go  oftener." 

"  I  was  not  quite  sure  who  she  was,"  Mrs.  Trelyon  said,  with  a 
feeble  air  of  apology.  "  I  like  her  appearance  very  much ;  and 
I  wish  she  or  anybody  else  would  induce  you  to  go  to  church. 
Well  now,  Harry,  I  will  myself  lend  you  the  five  thousand  pounds 
till  you  come  of  age.  Surely  that  will  be  much  better;  and,  if 
you  like,  I  will  make  Miss  Rosewarne's  acquaintance.  You  might 
ask  her  to  dinner  the  first  time  Mr.  Roscorla  is  coming;  and  he 
could  bring  her." 

Master  Harry  was  at  last  pacified. 

"  Make  it  Thursday,"  said  he ;  "  and  you  will  write  to  her, 
won't  you  ?  I  will  take  down  the  letter  and  persuade  her  ;  but 
if  she  comes  she  sha'n't  come  under  the  wing  of  Mr.  Roscorla,  as 
if  he  were  the  means  of  introducing  her.  I  shall  go  down  for 
her  with  the  brougham,  and  fetch  her  myself." 

"  But  what  will  Mr.  Roscorla  say  to  that  ?"  his  mother  asked, 
with  a  smile, 

"  Mr.  Roscorla  may  say  whatever  he  particularly  pleases,"  re- 
sponded Master  Harry. 

E2 


106  THREE    FEATHERS. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

"  SIE    BAT    SO    SAXFT,    SO    LIEBLICH." 

"To  dine  at  Trelyon  Hall?"  said  George  Rosewarne  to  liis 
eldest  daughter,  wlien  she  in  a  manner  asked  his  consent.  "Why 
not  ?  But  you  must  get  a  new  dress,  lass ;  we  can't  have  you  go 
among  grand  folks  as  Jim  Crow." 

"  But  there  is  a  story  about  the  crow  that  went  out  with  pea- 
cock's feathers,"  his  daughter  said  to  him.  "  And,  besides,  how 
could  I  get  a  new  dress  by  Thursday  ?" 

"  How  could  you  get  a  new  dress  by  Thursday  ?"  her  father 
repeated  mechanically,  for  he  was  watching  one  of  his  pet  pigeons 
on  the  roof  of  the  mill.  "  How  can  I  tell  you  ?  Go  and  ask 
your  mother.     Don't  bother  me." 

It  is  quite  certain  that  "VVenna  would  not  have  availed  herself 
of  this  gracious  permission — for  her  mother  was  not  very  well, 
and  she  did  not  wish  to  increase  that  tender  anxiety  which  Mrs. 
Rosewarne  already  showed  about  her  daughter's  going  among 
these  strangers — but  that  this  conversation  had  been  overheard 
by  Mabyn,  and  that  young  lady,  as  was  her  habit,  plunged  head- 
lontj  into  the  matter. 

"  You  can  have  the  dress  quite  well,  Wenna,"  she  said,  coming 
out  to  the  door  of  the  inn,  and  calling  on  her  mother  to  come 
too.  "  Now,  look  here,  mother,  I  give  you  warning  that  I  never, 
never,  never  will  speak  another  word  to  Wenna  if  she  doesn't 
take  the  silk  that  is  lying  by  for  me  and  have  it  made  up  directly 
— never  a  single  word,  if  I  live  in  Eglosilyan  for  a  hundred  and 
twenty-five  years !" 

"  Mabyn,  I  don't  want  a  new  dress,"  Wenna  expostulated.  "  I 
don't  need  one.  W^hy  should  you  rush  at  little  things  as  if  you 
were  a  squadron  of  cavalry  ?" 

"  I  don't  care  whether  you  want  it  or  whether  you  don't  want 
it ;  but  you've  got  to  have  it,  hasn't  she,  mother  ?  Or  else  it's 
what  I  tell  you :  not  a  word — not  a  word,  if  you  were  to  go  down 


"SIE    BAT    SO    SANFT,    SO    LIKBLICH."  107 

before  me  on  your  bended  knees."  This  was  said  with  much 
dramatic  effect. 

"I  think  you  had  better  let  Mabyn  have  her  own  way,"  the 
mother  said,  gently. 

"  I  let  her  ?"  Wenna  answered,  pretending  not  to  notice  Mabyn's 
look  of  defiance  and  triumph.  "  She  always  has  her  own  way  ; 
tomboys  always  have." 

"  Don't  call  names,  Wenna,"  her  sister  said,  severely ;  "  espe- 
cially as  I  have  just  given  you  a  dress.  You'll  have  to  get  Miss 
Keam  down  directly,  or  else  I'll  go  and  cut  it  myself,  and  then 
you'll  have  Harry  Trelyon  laughing  at  you  ;  for  he  always  laughs 
at  people  who  don't  know  how  to  keep  him  in  his  proper  place." 

"  Meaning  yourself,  Mabyn,"  the  mother  said ;  but  Mabyn  was 
not  to  be  crushed  by  any  sarcasm. 

Certainly  Harry  Trelyon  was  in  no  laughing  or  spiteful  mood 
when  he  drove  down  on  that  Thursday  evening  to  take  Wenna 
Kosewarne  up  to  the  Hall.  He  was  as  pleased  and  proud  as  he 
well  could  be ;  and  when  he  went  into  the  inn  he  made  no  secret 
of  his  satisfaction  and  of  his  gratitude  to  her  for  having  been 
good  enough  to  accept  his  mother's  invitation.  Moreover,  under- 
standing that  Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  still  rather  ailing,  he  had  brought 
down  for  her  a  brace  of  grouse  from  a  hamper  that  had  reached 
the  Hall  from  Yorkshire  that  morning ;  and  he  was  even  friendly 
and  good-natured  to  Mabyn  instead  of  being  ceremoniously  im- 
pertinent towards  her. 

"  Don't  you  think.  Mi'.  Trelyon,"  said  Wenna,  in  a  timid  way,  as 
she  was  getting  into  the  brougham — "  don't  you  think  we  should 
drive  around  for  Mr.  Roscorla  ?" 

"  Oh,  certainly  not,"  said  Mabyn,  with  promptitude.  "  He  al- 
ways prefers  a  walk  before  dinner — I  know  he  does — he  told  me 
so.  He  must  have  started  long  ago.  Don't  you  mind  her,  Mr. 
Trelyon." 

Mr.  Trelyon  was  grinning  as  he  and  Wenna  drove  away. 

"  She's  a  thorough  good  sort  of  girl,  that  sister  of  yours,"  he 
said ;  "  but  when  she  marries  Avon't  she  lead  her  husband  a  pretty 
dance !" 

"  Oh,  nothing  of  the  sort,  I  can  assure  you,"  Wenna  said,  sharply. 
*'  She  is  as  gentle  as  any  one  can  well  be.  If  she  is  impetuous, 
it  is  always  in  thinking  of  other  people.  There  is  nothing  she 
wouldn't  do  to  serve  those  whom  she  really  cares  for." 


108  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  with  a  laugh,  "  I  never  knew  two  girls  stick  up 
so  for  one  another.  Don't  imagine  I  was  such  a  fool  as  to  say 
anything  against  her.  But  sisters  ain't  often  like  that.  My 
cousin  Jue  has  a  sister  at  school,  and  when  she's  at  home  the 
bullying  that  goes  on  is  something  awful ;  or  rather  it's  nagging 
and  scratching,  for  girls  never  go  in  for  a  fair  stand-up  fight.  And 
yet  when  you  meet  these  two  separately,  you  find  each  of  them 
as  good-natured  and  good-tempered  as  you  could  wish.  But  if 
there's  anything  said  about  you  anywhere  that  isn't  positive  wor- 
ship, why  Mabyn  comes  down  on  the  people  like  a  cart-load  of 
bricks ;  and  she  can  do  it,  mind  you,  when  she  likes." 

"  Remember,"  he  said,  after  a  word  or  two,  "  I  mean  to  take 
you  in  to  dinner.  It  is  just  possible  my  mother  may  ask  Mr. 
Roscorla  to  take  you  in,  as  a  compliment  to  him ;  but  don't  you 
go." 

"  I  must  do  what  I  am  told,"  Wenna  answered,  meekly. 

"  Oh  no,  you  mustn't,"  he  said.  "  That  is  merely  a  girl's  no- 
tion of  what  is  proper.  You  are  a  woman  now ;  you  can  do  what 
you  like.  Don't  you  know  how  your  position  is  changed  since 
you  became  engaged  ?" 

"  Yes,  it  is  changed,"  she  said ;  and  then  she  added  quickly, 
"  Surely  that  must  be  a  planet  that  one  can  see  already." 

"  You  can  be  much  more  independent  in  your  actions  now,  and 
much  more  friendly  with  many  people,  don't  you  know?"  said 
this  young  man,  Avho  did  not  see  that  he  was  treading  on  very 
delicate  ground,  and  that  of  all  things  in  the  world  that  Wenna 
least  liked  to  hear  spoken  of,  her  engagement  to  Mr.  Roscorla 
was  the  chief. 

Late  that  night,  when  Wenna  returned  from  her  first  dinner- 
party at  Trelyon  Ilall,  she  found  her  sister  Mabyn  waiting  up  for 
her,  and,  having  properly  scolded  the  young  lady  for  so  doing, 
she  sat  down  and  consented  to  give  her  an  ample  and  minute  de- 
scription of  all  the  strange  things  that  had  happened. 

"  Well,  you  must  know,"  said  she,  folding  her  hands  on  her 
knees  as  she  had  been  used  to  do  in  telling  talcs  to  Mabyn  when 
they  were  children  together — "you  must  know  that  when  we 
drove  up  through  the  trees,  the  house  seemed  very  big  and  gray 
and  still ;  for  it  was  getting  dark,  and  there  was  no  sound  about 
the  place.  It  was  so  ghost-like  that  it  rather  frightened  me ;  but 
in  the  hall  Ave  passed  the  door  of  a  large  room,  and  there  I  got  a 


"  SIE    BAT    SO    SANFT,    SO    LIEBLICII."  109 

glimpse  of  a  very  gay  and  brilliant  place,  and  I  heard  some  peo- 
ple talking.  Mr.  Trelyon  was  waiting  for  me  wlien  I  came  down 
again,  and  he  took  me  into  the  drawing-room  and  introduced  me 
to  his  mother,  who  was  very  kind  to  me,  but  did  not  seem  in- 
clined to  speak  much  to  any  one.  There  was  no  other  lady  in  the 
room — only  those  two  clergymen  who  were  in  church  last  Sunday, 
and  Mr.  Trewhella  and  Mr.  Roscorla.  I  thought  Mr.  Roscorla 
was  a  little  embarrassed  when  he  came  forward  to  shake  hands 
with  me — and  that  was  natural,  for  all  the  people  must  have 
known — and  he  looked  at  my  dress  the  moment  I  entered  the 
room ;  and  then,  Mabyn,  I  did  thank  you  in  my  heart  for  letting 
me  have  it ;  for  I  had  forgotten  that  Mr,  Roscorla  would  regard 
me  as  being  on  my  trial,  and  I  hope  he  was  not  ashamed  of 
me." 

"Ashamed  of  you!"  said  Mabyn,  with  a  sudden  flash  of  anger. 
*'  Do  you  mean  that  he  was  on  his  trial  ?" 

"  Be  quiet.  Well,  you  must  know  that  Mr.  Trelyon  was  in 
very  high  spirits,  but  I  never  saw  him  so  good-natured,  and  he 
must  needs  take  me  in  to  dinner,  and  I  sat  on  his  right  hand. 
Mrs.  Trelyon  told  me  it  was  only  a  quiet  little  family  party  ;  and 
I  said  I  was  very  glad.  Do  you  know,  Mabyn,  there  is  something 
about  her  that  you  can't  help  liking — I  think  it  is  her  voice  and 
her  soft  way  of  looking  at  you ;  but  she  is  so  very  gentle  and 
ordinarily  so  silent,  that  she  makes  you  feel  as  if  you  were  a  very 
forward  and  talkative  and  rude  person — " 

"  That  is  precisely  what  you  are,  Wenna,"  Mabyn  observed,  in 
her  school-girl  sarcasm. 

"  But  Mr.  Trelyon,  he  was  talking  to  everybody  at  once — all 
around  the  table — I  never  saw  him  in  such  spirits ;  and  most  of 
all  he  was  very  kind  to  Mr.  Trewhella,  and  I  liked  him  for  that. 
He  told  me  he  had  asked  Mr.  Trewhella  because  I  was  coming ; 
and  one  thing  I  noticed  was  that  he  was  always  sending  the  but- 
ler to  fill  Mr.  Trewhella's  glass,  or  to  offer  him  some  different 
wine,  whereas  he  let  the  other  two  clergymen  take  their  chance. 
Mr.  Roscorla  was  at  the  other  end  of  the  table — he  took  in  Mrs. 
Trelyon — I  hope  he  was  not  vexed  that  I  did  not  have  a  chance 
of  speaking  to  him  the  whole  evening ;  but  how  could  I  help  it  ? 
He  would  not  come  near  mo  in  the  drawing-room — perhaps  that 
was  proper,  considering  that  we  are  engaged ;  only  I  hope  he  is 
not  vexed." 


110  THREE    FEATHERS. 

For  once  Miss  Mabyn  kept  a  liold  over  her  tongue,  and  did  not 
reveal  tlie  thoughts  that  were  uppermost  in  her  mind, 

"  Well,  after  dinner  Mrs.  Trelyon  and  I  went  back  to  the  draw- 
ing-room ;  and  it  was  very  brilliant  and  beautiful ;  but,  oh !  one 
felt  so  much  alone  in  the  big  place  that  I  was  glad  when  she 
asked  me  if  I  would  play  something  for  her.  It  was  something 
to  think  about ;  but  I  had  no  music,  and  I  had  to  begin  and  rec- 
ollect all  sorts  of  pieces  that  I  had  almost  forgotten.  At  first  she 
was  at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  in  a  low  easy-chair  of  rose- 
colored  silk,  and  she  looked  really  very  beautiful  and  sad,  and  as 
if  she  were  dreaming.  But  by  and  by  she  came  over  and  sat  by  the 
piano ;  and  it  was  as  if  you  were  playing  to  a  ghost,  that  listened 
without  speaking,  I  played  one  or  two  of  the  '  Songs  without 
"Words' — those  I  could  recollect  easily — then  Beethoven's  '  Fare- 
well ;'  but  while  I  was  playing  that  I  happened  to  turn  a  little 
bit,  and,  do  you  know,  she  was  crying  in  a  quiet  and  silent  way. 
Then  she  put  her  hand  gently  on  my  arm,  and  I  stopped  playing, 
but  I  did  not  turn  towards  her,  for  there  was  something  so  strange 
and  sad  in  seeing  her  cry  that  I  was  nearly  crying  myself,  and  I  did 
not  know  what  was  troubling  her.  Then,  do  you  know,  Mabyn, 
she  rose  and  put  her  hand  on  my  head,  and  said,  '  I  hear  you  arc 
a  very  good  girl :  I  hope  you  will  come  and  see  me.'  Then  I  told 
her  I  was  sorry  that  something  I  had  played  had  troubled  her ; 
and  as  I  saw  she  was  still  distressed,  I  was  very  glad  when  she 
asked  me  if  I  would  put  on  a  hood  and  shawl,  and  take  a  turn 
with  her  round  some  of  the  paths  outside.  It  is  such  a  beautiful 
night  to-night,  Mabyn ;  and  up  there,  where  you  seemed  to  be 
just  under  the  stars,  the  scents  of  the  flowers  were  so  sweet. 
Sometimes  we  walked  under  the  trees,  almost  in  darkness,  and 
then  we  would  come  out  on  the  clear  space  of  the  lawn,  and  find 
the  skies  overhead,  and  then  we  would  go  into  the  rose-garden, 
and  all  the  time  she  was  no  longer  like  a  ghost,  but  talking  to 
me  as  if  she  had  known  me  a  long  time.  And  she  is  such  a  strange 
woman,  Mabyn — she  seems  to  live  so  much  apart  from  other  peo- 
ple, and  to  look  at  everything  just  as  it  aflEects  herself.  Fancy  a 
harp,  you  know,  never  thinking  of  the  music  it  was  making ;  but 
looking  all  the  time  at  the  quivering  of  its  own  strings.  I  hope 
I  did  not  ofifend  her ;  for  when  she  was  saying  some  very  friendly 
things  about  me — of  course  Mr.  Trelyon  had  been  telling  her  a 
heap  of  nonsense — about  helping  people  and  that,  she  seemed  to 


"  SIE    BAT    SO    SANFT,    SO    LIEBLICII."  Ill 

think  that  tlie  only  person  to  be  considered  in  sucli  cases  was 
yourself,  and  not  those  whom  you  might  try  to  help.  Well,  when 
she  was  talking  about  the  beautiful  sensations  of  being  benevolent 
— and  how  it  softened  your  heai't  and  refined  your  feelings  to  be 
charitable — I  am  afraid  I  said  something  I  should  not  have  said, 
for  she  immediately  turned  and  asked  me  what  more  I  would 
have  her  do.  Well,  I  thought  to  myself,  if  I  have  offended  her, 
it's  done  and  can't  be  helped ;  and  so  I  plunged  into  the  very 
thing  I  had  been  thinking  of  all  the  way  in  the  brougham — " 

"  The  Sewing  Club  1"  said  Mabyn ;  for  Wenna  had  already 
spoken  of  her  dark  and  nefarious  scheme  to  her  sister. 

"  Yes ;  once  I  was  in  it,  I  told  her  of  the  whole  affair ;  and 
what  she  could  do  if  she  liked.  She  was  surprised,  and  I  think 
a  little  afraid.  *  I  do  not  know  the  people,'  she  said,  '  as  you  do. 
But  I  should  be  delighted  to  give  you  all  the  money  you  required, 
if  you  would  undertake  the  rest.'  '  Oh  no,  madam,'  said  I  (after- 
wards she  asked  me  not  to  call  her  so),  'that  is  impossible.  I 
have  many  things  to  do  at  home,  especially  at  present,  for  my 
mother  is  not  well.  What  little  time  I  can  give  to  other  people 
has  many  calls  on  it.     And  I  could  not  do  all  this  by  myself.' " 

"  I  should  think  not,"  said  Mabyn,  rising  up  in  great  indigna- 
tion, and  beginning  to  walk  up  and  down  the  room.  "  Why, 
Wenna,  they'd  work  your  fingers  to  the  bone,  and  never  say  thank 
you.  You  do  far  too  much  already — I  say  you  do  far  too  much 
already — and  the  idea  that  you  should  do  that !  You  may  say 
what  you  like  about  Mrs.  Trelyon — she  may  be  a  very  good  lady, 
but  I  consider  it  nothing  less  than  mean — I  consider  it  disgrace- 
ful, mean,  and  abominably  Avickcd  that  she  should  ask  you  to  do 
all  this  work  and  do  nothing  herself !" 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  Wenna,  "  you  are  quite  unjust.  Mrs. 
Trelyon  is  neither  mean  nor  wicked ;  but  she  was  in  ignorance,  and 
she  is  timid,  and  unused  to  visiting  poor  people.  When  I  showed 
her  that  no  one  in  Eglosilyan  could  so  effectively  begin  the  Club 
as  herself — and  that  the  reckless  giving  of  money  that  she  seemed 
inclined  to  was  the  worst  sort  of  kindness — and  when  I  told  her 
of  all  my  plans  of  getting  the  materials  wholesale,  and  making 
the  husbands  subscribe  and  the  women  sew,  and  all  that  I  have 
told  you,  she  took  to  the  plan  with  an  almost  childish  enthusiasm ; 
and  now  it  is  quite  settled,  and  the  only  danger  is  that  she  may 
destroy  the  purpose  of  it  by  being  over-generous.     Don't  you  see, 


112  THREE    FEATHERS. 

Mabyn,  it  is  her  first  effort  in  actual  and  practical  benevolence — 
slie  seems  liitlierto  only  to  have  satisfied  her  sense  of  duty  or 
pleased  her  feelings  by  giving  checks  to  public  charities — and 
she  is  already  only  a  little  too  eager  and  interested  in  it.  She 
doesn't  know  what  a  slow  and  wearisome  thing  it  is  to  give  some 
little  help  to  your  neighbors  discreetly." 

"  Oh,  Wenna,"  her  sister  said,  "  what  a  manager  you  are ! 
Sometimes  I  think  you  must  be  a  thousand  years  of  age ;  and 
other  times  you  seem  so  silly  about  your  own  affairs  that  I  can't 
understand  you.     Did  Mr.  Roscorla  bring  you  home  ?" 

"  No,  but  he  came  in  the  brougham  along  Avith  Mr.  Trelyon. 
There  was  a  great  deal  of  joking  about  the  conquest — so  they 
said — I  had  made  of  Mrs.  Trelyon ;  but  you  see  how  it  all  came 
about,  Mabyn.     She  was  so  interested  in  this  scheme — " 

"  Oh  yes ;  I  see  how  it  all  came  about,"  said  Mabyn,  quite  con- 
tentedly. "  And  now  you  are  very  tired,  you  poor  little  thing, 
and  I  sha'n't  ask  you  any  more  about  your  dinner-party  to-night. 
Here  is  a  candle." 

Wenna  was  just  going  into  her  own  room,  when  her  sister 
turned  and  said — 

"  Wenna !" 

"  Yes,  dear." 

"  Do  you  think  that  his  Royal  Highness  Mr.  Roscorla  conde- 
scended to  be  pleased  with  your  appearance  and  your  manners 
and  your  dress  ?" 

"  Don't  you  ask  impertinent  questions^"  said  Wenna,  as  she 
shut  the  door. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A    LEAVE-TAKING    OF    LOVERS. 


Wenna  had  indeed  made  a  conquest  of  the  pale  and  gentle 
lady  up  at  the  Hall,  which  at  anotlier  time  might  have  been  at- 
tended with  important  results  to  the  people  of  Eglosilyan.  But 
at  this  period  of  the  year  the  Trelyons  were  in  the  habit  of  leav- 
ing Cornwall  for  a  few  months  ;  Mrs.  Trelyon  generally  going  to 
some  Continental  watering-place,  while  her  son  proceeded  to  accept 


A    LEAVE-TAKING    OF    LOVERS.  113 

such  invitations  as  Le  could  get  to  shoot  in  the  EngUsh  counties. 
This  autumn  Harry  Trelyon  accompanied  his  mother  as  far  as 
Etretat,  -where  a  number  of  her  friends  had  made  up  a  small 
party.  From  this  point  she  wrote  to  Wenna,  saying  how  sorry 
she  was  she  could  not  personally  help  in  founding  that  Sewing 
Club,  but  offering  to  send  a  handsome  subscription.  Wenna  an- 
swered the  letter  in  a  dutiful  spirit,  but  firmly  declined  the  offer. 
Then  nothing  was  heard  of  the  Trelyons  for  a  long  time,  except 
that  now  and  again  a  hamper  of  game  would  make  its  appearance 
at  Eglosilyan,  addressed  to  Miss  Wenna  Rosewarne  in  a  sprawling 
school-boy's  hand,  which  she  easily  recognized.  Master  Harry  was 
certainly  acting  on  his  own  theory  that  now  she  was  engaged  he 
could  give  her  presents,  or  otherwise  be  as  familiar  and  friendly 
with  her  as  he  pleased. 

It  was  a  dull,  slow,  and  dreary  winter.  Mr.  Roscorla  was  deep- 
ly engaged  with  his  Jamaica  project,  and  was  occasionally  up  in. 
London  for  a  fortnight  at  a  time.  He  had  got  the  money  from 
young  Trelyon,  and  soon  hoped  to  set  out — as  he  told  Wenna — 
to  make  his  fortune.  She  put  no  obstacle  in  his  way,  nor  did 
she  encourage  him  to  go ;  it  was  for  him  to  decide,  and  she  would 
abide  by  his  decision.  For  the  rest,  he  never  revived  that  request 
of  his  that  they  should  be  married  before  he  went. 

Eglosilyan  in  winter -time  is  a  very  different  place  from  the 
Eglosilyan  of  the  happy  summer  months.  The  wild  coast  is 
sombre  and  gloomy.  The  uplands  are  windy  and  bleak  and 
bare.  There  is  no  shining  plain  of  blue  lying  around  the  land, 
but  a  dark  and  cheerless  sea,  that  howls  in  the  night-time  as  it 
beats  on  the  mighty  walls  of  black  rock.  It  is  rather  a  relief,  in- 
deed— to  break  the  mournful  silence  of  those  projecting  cliffs 
and  untenanted  bays — when  the  heavens  are  shaken  with  a  storm, 
and  when  the  gigantic  waves  wash  into  the  small  harbor,  so  that 
the  coasters  seeking  shelter  there  have  to  be  scuttled  and  tempo- 
rarily sunk  in  order  to  save  them.  Then  there  are  the  fierce  rains, 
to  guard  against  which  the  seaward-looking  houses  have  been  faced 
with  slate ;  and  the  gardens  get  dank  and  wet,  and  the  ways  arc 
full  of  mire,  and  no  one  dares  venture  out  on  the  slippery  cliffs. 
It  was  a  tedious  and  a  cheerless  winter. 

Then  Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  more  or  less  of  an  invalid  the  most 
of  the  time,  and  Wenna  was  much  occupied  by  household  cares. 
Occasionally,  when  her  duties  indoors  and  in  the  cottages  of  her 


114  THREE    FEATHERS. 

humble  friends  liad  been  got  over,  she  would  climb  up  the  hill  on 
the  other  side  of  the  mill-stream  to  have  a  look  around  her.  One 
seemed  to  breathe  more  freely  up  there  among  the  rocks  and  furze 
than  in  small  parlors  or  kitchens  where  children  had  to  be  labo- 
riously taught.  And  yet  the  picture  was  not  cheerful.  A  gray 
and  leaden  sea — a  black  line  of  cliffs  standing  sharp  against  it  un- 
til lost  in  the  mist  of  the  south — the  green  slopes  over  the  cliffs 
touched  here  and  there  with  the  brown  of  withered  bracken — then 
down  in  the  two  valleys  the  leafless  trees  and  gardens  and  cot- 
tages of  Eglosilyan,  the  slates  ordinarily  shining  wet  with  the 
rain.  One  day  Wenna  received  a  brief  little  letter  from  Mrs,  Tre- 
lyon,  who  Avas  at  Mentone,  and  who  said  something  about  the 
balmy  air,  and  the  beautiful  skies,  and  the  blue  water  around  her ; 
and  the  girl,  looking  out  on  the  hard  and  stern  features  of  this 
sombre  coast,  wondered  how  such  things  could  be. 

Somehow  there  was  so  much  ordinary  and  commonplace  work 
to  do  that  Wenna  almost  forgot  that  she  was  engaged ;  and  Mr. 
Roscorla,  continually  occupied  with  his  new  project,  seldom  cared 
to  remind  her  that  they  were  on  the  footing  of  sweethearts.  Their 
relations  were  of  an  eminently  friendly  character,  but  little  more 
— in  view  of  the  forthcoming  separation  he  scarcely  thought  it 
worth  while  to  have  them  anything  more.  Sometimes  he  was  in- 
clined to  apologize  to  her  for  the  absence  of  sentiment  and  ro- 
manticism which  marked  their  intimacy ;  but  the  more  he  saw  of 
her  the  more  he  perceived  that  she  did  not  care  for  that  sort  of 
thing,  and  was,  indeed,  about  as  anxious  to  avoid  it  as  he  was 
himself.  She  kept  their  engagement  a  secret.  He  once  offered 
her  his  arm  in  going  home  from  church ;  she  made  some  excuse, 
and  he  did  not  repeat  the  offer.  AVhen  he  came  in  of  an  evening 
to  have  a  chat  with  George  Roscwarne,  they  talked  about  the  sub- 
jects of  the  day  as  they  had  been  accustomed  to  do  long  before 
this  engagement ;  and  Wenna  sat  and  sewed  in  silence,  or  with- 
drew to  a  side-table  to  make  up  her  account-books.  Very  rarely 
indeed — thanks  to  Miss  Mabyn,  whose  hostilities  had  never  ceased 
— had  he  a  chance  of  seeing  his  betrothed  alone,  and  then,  some- 
how, their  conversation  invariably  took  a  practical  turn.  It  was 
not  a  romantic  courtship. 

lie  considered  her  a  very  sensible  girl.  Ue  was  glad  that  his 
choice  was  approved  by  his  reason.  She  was  not  beautiful ;  but 
she  had  qualities  that  would  last — intelligence,  sweetness,  and  a 


A    LEAVE-TAKING    OF    LOVERS.  115 

sufficient  fund  of  gentle  humor  to  keep  a  man  in  good  spirits. 
She  was  not  quite  in  his  own  sphere  of  life ;  but  then,  he  argued 
with  himself,  a  man  ought  always  to  marry  a  woman  who  is  below 
him  rather  than  above  him — in  social  position,  or  in  wealth,  or  in 
brain,  or  in  all  three — for  then  she  is  all  the  more  likely  to  respect 
and  obey  him,  and  to  be  grateful  to  him.  Now,  if  you  do  not 
happen  to  have  won  the  deep  and  fervent  love  of  a  woman — a 
thing  that  seldom  occurs — gratitude  is  a  very  good  substitute. 
Mr.  Roscorla  was  quite  content. 

"Wenna,"  said  he,  one  day  after  they  had  got  into  the  new 
year,  and  when  one  had  begun  to  look  forward  to  the  first  indi- 
cations of  spring  in  that  southern  county,  "  the  whole  affair  is 
now  afloat,  and  it  is  time  I  should  be  too — forgive  the  profound 
witticism.  Everything  has  been  done  out  there  ;  we  can  do  no 
more  here ;  and  my  partners  think  I  should  sail  about  the  fifteenth 
of  next  month." 

Was  he  asking  her  permission,  or  expecting  some  utterance  of 
regret  that  he  looked  at  her  so  ?  She  cast  down  her  eyes,  and  said, 
rather  timidly — 

"  I  hope  you  will  have  a  safe  voyage — and  be  successful." 

He  was  a  little  disappointed  that  she  said  nothing  more ;  but 
he  himself  immediately  proceeded  to  deal  with  the  aspects  of  the 
case  in  a  most  business-like  manner. 

"And  then,"  said  he,  "I  don't  want  to  put  you  to  the  pain  of 
taking  a  formal  and  solemn  farewell  as  the  ship  sails.  One  always 
feels  downhearted  in  watching  a  ship  go  away,  even  though  there 
is  no  reason.  I  must  go  to  London  in  any  case  for  a  few  days 
before  sailing,  and  so  I  thought  that  if  you  wouldn't  mind  coming 
as  far  as  Launceston — with  your  mother  or  sister — you  could  drive 
back  here  without  any  bother." 

"  If  you  do  not  think  it  unkind,"  said  Wcnna,  in  a  low  voice, 
"  I  should  prefer  that ;  for  I  could  not  take  mamma  farther  than 
Launceston,  I  think." 

"  I  shall  never  think  anything  you  do  unkind,"  said  he.  "  I  do 
not  think  you  are  capable  of  unkindness." 

He  wished  at  this  moment  to  add  something  about  her  engaged 
ring,  but  could  not  quite  muster  up  courage.  He  paused  for  a 
minute,  and  became  embarrassed,  and  then  told  her  what  a  first- 
class  cabin  to  Jamaica  would  cost. 

And  at  length  the  day  came  round.     The  weather  had  been 


11 G  THREE    FEATHERS. 

bitterly  cold  and  raw  for  the  prc^'ious  tAvo  or  three  weeks ;  thougli 
it  was  Marcli  the  world  seemed  still  frozen  in  the  grasp  of  winter. 
Early  on  this  bleak  and  gray  forenoon  Mr.  Roscorla  walked  down 
to  the  inn,  and  found  the  wagonette  at  the  door.  His  luggage 
had  been  sent  on  to  Southampton  some  days  before;  he  was 
ready  to  start  at  once. 

Wenna  was  a  little  pale  and  nervous  when  she  came  out  and 
got  into  the  wagonette ;  but  she  busied  herself  in  wrapping  abun- 
dant rugs  and  shawls  around  her  mother,  who  protested  against 
being  buried  alive, 

"  Good-bye,"  said  her  father,  shaking  hands  with  Mr.  Roscorla 
carelessly,  "  I  hope  you'll  have  a  fine  passage.  Wenna,  don't  for- 
get to  ask  for  those  cartridge-cases  as  you  drive  back  from  the 
station." 

But  Miss  Mabyn's  method  of  bidding  him  farewell  was  far  more 
singular.  With  an  affectation  of  playfulness  she  offered  him  both 
her  hands,  and  so,  making  quite  sure  that  she  had  a  grip  on  the 
left  hand  of  that  emerald  ring  that  had  afforded  her  much  conso- 
lation, she  said — 

"  Good-bye.     I  hope  you  will  get  safely  out  to  Jamaica." 

"  And  back  again  ?"  said  he,  with  a  laugh. 

Mabyn  said  nothing,  turned  away,  and  pretended  to  be  examin- 
ing the  outlines  of  the  wagonette.  Nor  did  she  speak  again  to 
any  one  until  the  small  party  drove  away ;  and  then,  when  they 
had  got  over  the  bridge  and  along  the  valley,  and  up  and  over  the 
hill,  she  suddenly  ran  to  her  father,  flung  her  arms  around  his  neck, 
kissed  him,  and  cried  out — 

"  Hurrah  !  the  horrid  creature  is  gone,  and  he'll  never  come  back 


-never 


I" 


"  Mabyn,"  said  her  father,  in  a  peevish  ill-temper,  as  he  stooped 
to  pick  up  the  broken  pipe  which  she  had  caused  him  to  let  fall, 
"  I  wish  you  wouldn't  be  such  a  fool." 

But  Mabyn  was  not  to  be  crushed.  She  said,  "  Poor  dadda, 
has  it  broken  its  pipe  ?"  and  then  she  walked  off,  with  her  head 
very  erect,  and  a  very  happy  light  on  her  face,  while  she  sang  to 
herself,  after  the  manner  of  an  acquaintance  of  hers, "  Oh,  the  men 
of  merry,  merry  England !" 

There  was  less  cheerfulness  in  that  wagonette  that  was  making 
its  way  across  the  bleak  uplands — a  black  speck  in  the  gray  and 
wintry  landscape.    Wenna  was  really  sorry  that  this  long  voyage, 


A    LEAVE-TAKING    OF    LOVEKS.  117 

and  all  its  cares  and  anxieties,  sliould  lie  before  one  who  had  been 
so  kind  to  her ;  it  made  her  miserable  to  think  of  his  going  away 
into  strange  lands  all  by  himself,  with  little  of  the  buoyancy  and 
restlessness  and  ambition  of  youth  to  bear  him  up.  As  for  him, 
he  was  chiefly  occupied  during  this  silent  drive  across  to  Launces- 
ton  in  nursing  the  fancy  that  he  was  going  out  to  fight  the  world 
for  her  sake — as  a  younger  man  might  have  done — and  that,  if  he 
returned  successful,  her  gratitude  would  be  added  to  the  substan- 
tial results  of  his  trip.  It  rather  pleased  him  to  imagine  himself 
in  this  position.  After  all,  he  was  not  so  very  elderly ;  and  he 
was  in  very  good  preservation  for  his  years.  He  was  more  than 
a  match  in  physique,  in  hopefulness,  and  in  a  knowledge  of  the 
world  that  ought  to  stand  him  in  good  stead  for  many  a  young- 
er man  who,  with  far  less  chances  of  success,  was  bent  on  making 
a  fortune  for  the  sake  of  some  particular  girl. 

He  was  not  displeased  to  see  that  she  was  sorry  about  his  going 
away.  She  would  soon  get  over  that.  He  had  no  wish  that  she 
should  continually  mope  in  his  absence  ;  nor  did  he,  indeed,  be- 
lieve that  any  sensible  girl  would  do  anything  of  the  sort. 

At  the  same  time  he  had  no  fear  whatever  as  to  her  remaining 
constant  to  him.  A  girl  altogether  out  of  the  way  of  meeting 
marriageable  young  men  would  be  under  no  temptation  to  let  her 
fancies  rove.  Moreover,  Wenna  Rosewarne  had  something  to 
gain  in  social  position  by  her  marriage  with  him,  which  she 
could  not  be  so  blind  as  to  ignore ;  and  had  she  not,  too,  the  in- 
ducement of  waiting  to  see  whether  he  might  not  bring  back  a 
fortune  to  her  ?  But  the  real  cause  of  his  trust  in  her  was  that 
experience  of  her  uncompromising  sincerity  and  keen  sense  of 
honor  that  he  had  acquired  during  a  long  and  sufficiently  inti- 
mate friendship.  If  the  thought  of  her  breaking  her  promise 
ever  occurred  to  him,  it  was  not  as  a  serious  possibility,  but  as  an 
idle  fancy,  to  be  idly  dismissed. 

**  You  are  very  silent,"  he  said  to  her. 

"  I  am  sorry  you  are  going  away,"  she  said,  simply  and  honest- 
ly ;  and  the  admission  pleased  and  flattered  him. 

"  You  don't  give  me  courage,"  he  said,  laughingly.  "  You  ought 
to  consider  that  I  am  going  out  into  the  world — even  at  my  time 
of  life — to  get  a  lot  of  money  and  come  back  to  make  a  grand 
lady  of  you." 

"  Oh !"  said  she,  in  sudden  alarm — for  such  a  thought  had  never 


lis  THREE    FEATHKE8. 

entered  her  head — "  I  hope  you  are  not  going  away  on  my  account. 
You  know  that  I  wish  for  nothing  of  that  kind.  I  hope  you  did 
not  consider  me  in  resolving  to  go  to  Jamaica !" 

"  Well,  of  course  I  considered  you,"  said  he,  good-naturedly ; 
"  but  don't  alarm  yourself;  I  should  have  gone  if  1  had  never  seen 
you.  But  naturally  I  have  an  additional  motive  in  going  when  I 
look  at  the  future." 

That  was  not  a  pleasant  thought  for  Wenna  Rosewarne.  It 
was  not  likely  to  comfort  her  on  stormy  nights,  when  she  might 
lie  awake  and  think  of  a  certain  ship  at  sea.  She  had  acquiesced 
in  his  going,  as  in  one  of  those  things  which  men  do  because  they 
are  men,  and  seem  bound  to  satisfy  their  ambition  with  results 
which  women  might  consider  unnecessary.  But  that  she  should 
have  exercised  any  influence  on  his  decision — that  alarmed  her 
with  a  new  sense  of  responsibility,  and  she  began  to  wish  that  he 
could  suddenly  drop  this  project,  have  the  wagonette  turned 
around,  and  drive  back  to  the  quiet  content  and  small  economies 
and  peaceful  work  of  Eglosilyan. 

They  arrived  in  good  time  at  Launccston,  and  went  for  a  stroll 
up  to  the  fine  old  castle  while  luncheon  was  being  got  ready  at 
the  hotel.  Wenna  did  not  seem  to  regard  that  as  a  very  enticing 
meal  when  they  sat  down  to  it.  The  talk  was  kept  up  chiefly  by 
her  mother  and  Mr.  Roscorla,  who  spoke  of  life  on  shipboard,  and 
the  best  means  of  killing  the  tedium  of  it.  Mr.  Roscorla  said  he 
would  keep  a  journal  all  the  time  he  was  away,  and  send  instal- 
ments from  time  to  time  to  Wenna. 

They  walked  from  the  hotel  down  to  the  station.  Just  outside 
the  station  they  saw  a  landau,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  beautiful  grays, 
which  were  being  walked  up  and  down. 

"  Surely  those  are  Mrs.  Trelyon's  horses,"  Wenna  said ;  and  as 
the  carriage,  which  was  empty,  came  nearer,  the  coachman  touched 
his  hat.     "  Perhaps  she  is  coming  back  to  the  Hall  to-day." 

The  words  Avere  uttered  carelessly,  for  she  was  thinking  of  other 
things.  When  they  at  last  stood  on  the  platform,  and  Mr.  Ros^ 
corla  had  chosen  his  seat,  he  could  see  that  she  was  paler  than  ever. 
lie  spoke  in  a  light  and  cheerful  way,  mostly  to  her  mother,  until 
the  guard  requested  him  to  get  into  the  carriage,  and  then  he  turned 
to  the  girl  and  took  her  hand. 

"  Good-bye,  my  dear  Wenna,"  said  he.  "  God  bless  you  !  I 
hope  you  will  write  to  me  often." 


A   LEAVE-TAKING    OF*  LOVERS.  119 

Then  he  kissed  her  cheek,  shook  hands  with  her  again,  and  got 
into  the  carriage.  She  had  not  spoken  a  word.  Her  hps  were 
trembling — she  could  not  speak — and  he  saw  it. 

When  the  train  went  slowly  out  of  the  station,  Wenna  stood 
and  looked  after  it  with  something  of  a  mist  before  her  eyes,  until 
she  could  see  nothing  of  the  handkerchief  that  was  being  waved 
from  one  of  the  carriage  windows.  She  stood  quite  still,  until  her 
mother  put  her  hand  on  her  shoulder,  and  then  she  turned  and 
walked  away  with  her.  They  had  not  gone  three  yards  when 
they  were  met  by  a  tall  young  man  who  had  come  rushing  down 
the  hill  and  through  the  small  station-house. 

"  By  Jove !"  said  he,  "  I  am  just  too  late.  How  do  you  do,  Mrs. 
Rosewarne  ?  How  are  you,  Wenna  ?" — and  then  he  paused,  and 
a  great  blush  overspread  his  face — for  the  girl  looked  up  at  him 
and  took  his  hand  silently,  and  he  could  see  there  were  tears  in 
her  eyes.  It  occurred  to  him  that  he  had  no  business  there — 
and  yet  he  had  come  on  an  errand  of  kindness.  So  he  said,  with 
some  little  embarrassment,  to  Mrs.  Rosewarne — 

"  I  heard  you  were  coming  over  to  this  train,  and  I  was  afraid 
you  would  find  the  drive  back  in  the  wagonette  rather  cold  this 
evening.  I  have  got  our  landau  outside — closed,  you  know — and 
I  thought  you  might  let  me  drive  you  over." 

Mrs.  Rosewarne  looked  at  her  daughter.  Wenna  decided  all 
such  things,  and  the  girl  said  to  him,  in  a  low  voice — 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you." 

"  Then  just  give  me  a  second,  that  I  may  tell  your  man,"  Trc- 
lyon  said,  and  oflE  he  darted. 

Was  it  his  respect  for  Wcnna's  trouble,  or  had  it  been  his  knock- 
ing about  among  strangers  for  six  months,  that  seemed  to  have 
given  to  the  young  man  (at  least  in  Mrs.  Rosewarne's  eyes)  some- 
thing of  a  more  courteous  and  considerate  manner  ?  When  the 
three  of  them  were  being  rapidly  whirled  along  the  Launceston 
highway  in  Mrs.  Trelyon's  carriage,  Harry  Trelyon  was  evidently 
bent  on  diverting  Wenna's  thoughts  from  her  present  cares ;  and 
he  told  stories  and  asked  questions,  and  related  his  recent  advent- 
ures in  such  a  fashion  that  the  girl's  face  gradually  lightened, 
and  she  grew  interested  and  pleased.  She,  too,  thought  he  was 
much  improved — how  she  could  not  exactly  tell. 

"  Come,"  said  he,  at  last,  "  you  must  not  be  very  downhearted 
about  a  mere  holiday  trip.     You  will  soon  get  letters,  you  know, 


120  THI^EE    FEATHERS. 

telling  you  all  about  the  strange  places  abroad ;  and  then,  before 
you  know  where  you  arc,  you'll  have  to  drive  over  to  the  station, 
as  you  did  to-day,  to  meet  Mr.  Roscorla  coming  back." 

"  It  may  be  a  very  long  time  indeed,"  Wenna  said  ;  "  and  if  he 
should  come  to  any  harm  I  shall  know  that  I  was  the  cause  of  it ; 
for  if  it  had  not  been  for  me,  I  don't  believe  he  would  have  gone." 

"  Oh,  that  is  quite  absurd ! — begging  your  pardon,"  said  Master 
Harry,  coolly.  "  Roscorla  got  a  chance  of  making  some  money, 
and  he  took  it,  as  any  other  man  Avould.  You  had  no  more  to  do 
with  it  than  I  had — indeed,  I  had  something  to  do  with  it — but 
that's  a  secret.  No ;  don't  you  make  any  mistake  about  that. 
And  he'll  be  precious  well  off  when  he's  out  there,  and  seeing 
everything  going  on  smoothly,  especially  when  he  gets  a  letter 
from  you,  with  a  Cornish  primrose  or  violet  in  it.  And  you'll 
get  that  soon  now,"  he  added  quickly,  seeing  that  "Wenna  blushed 
somewhat ;  "  for  I  fancy  tliere's  a  sort  of  smell  in  the  air  this  af- 
ternoon that  means  spring-time.  I  think  the  wind  has  been  get- 
ting round  to  the  west  all  day ;  before  night  you  will  find  a  dif- 
ference in  the  air,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  I  think  it  has  become  very  fresh  and  mild  already,"  Wenna 
said,  judging  by  an  occasional  breath  of  wind  that  came  in  at  the 
top  of  the  windows. 

"  Do  you  think  you  could  bear  the  landau  open  ?"  said  he,  ea- 
gerly. 

AVhen  they  stopped  to  try — when  they  opened  the  windows — 
the  predictions  of  the  weather  prophet  had  already  been  fulfilled, 
and  a  strange,  genial  mildness  and  freshness  pervaded  the  air. 
They  were  now  near  Eglosilyan,  on  the  brow  of  a  hill,  and  away 
below  them  they  could  see  the  sea  lying  dull  and  gray  under  the 
cloudy  sky.  But  while  they  waited  for  the  coachman  to  uncover 
the  landau,  a  soft  and  yellow  light  began  to  show  itself  far  out 
in  the  west,  a  break  appeared  in  the  clouds,  and  a  vast  comb  of 
gold  shot  shining  down  on  the  plain  of  water  beneath.  The  west- 
ern skies  were  opening  up ;  and  what  with  this  new  and  beautiful 
light,  and  Avhat  with  the  sweet  air  that  awoke  a  thousand  pleasant 
and  pathetic  memories,  it  seemed  to  AVenna  Roscwarne  that  the 
tender  spring-time  was  at  length  at  hand,  with  all  its  wonder  of 
yellow  crocuses  and  pale  snowdrops,  and  the  first  faint  shimmer- 
ings  of  green  on  the  hedges  and  woods.  Iler  eyes  filled  with 
tears — she  knew  not  whv.     Surelv  she  was  not  old  enough  to 


THE    FAIR    SPRING-TIME.  121 

know  anytliing  of  the  sadness  that  comes  to  some  when  the  heav- 
ens are  cleared,  and  a  new  life  stirs  in  the  trees,  and  the  world 
awakes  to  the  fairness  of  the  spring.  She  was  only  eighteen ;  she 
had  a  lover ;  and  she  was  as  certain  of  his  faithfulness  as  of  her 
own. 

In  bidding  them  good-bye  at  the  door  of  the  inn,  Mr.  Harry 
Trelyon  told  them  that  he  meant  to  remain  in  Eglosilyan  for 
some  months  to  come. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE    FAIR    SPRIVG-TIME. 


The  spring-time  had  indeed  arrived — rapidly  and  impercepti- 
bly ;  and  all  at  once  it  seemed  as  if  the  world  had  grown  green, 
and  the  skies  fair  and  clear,  and  the  winds  sweet  with  a  new  and 
delightful  sweetness.  Each  morning  that  Wenna  went  out  brought 
some  further  wonder  with  it — along  the  budding  hedgerows,  in 
the  colors  of  the  valley,  in  the  fresh  warmth  of  the  air,  and  the 
white  light  of  the  skies.  And  at  last  the  sea  began  to  show  its 
deep  and  resplendent  summer  blue,  when  the  morning  happened 
to  be  still,  and  there  was  a  silvery  haze  along  the  coast. 

"Mabyn,  is  your  sister  at  home?  And  do  you  think  she  could 
go  up  to  the  Hall  for  a  little  while,  for  my  mother  Avants  to  see 
her?  And  do  you  think  she  would  walk  around  by  the  cliffs — 
for  it  is  such  a  capital  morning — if  you  came  with  her?" 

"Oh  yes,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  said  Mabyn,  readily,  and  with  far  more 
respect  and  courtesy  than  she  usually  showed  to  the  young  gen- 
tleman, "  I  am  quite  sure  Wenna  can  go ;  and  I  know  she  would 
like  to  walk  around  by  the  cliffs — she  is  always  glad  to  do  that — 
and  I  will  tell  her  to  get  ready  instantly.  But  /  can't  go,  Mr.  Tre- 
lyon— I  am  exceedingly  busy  this  morning." 

"  Why,  you  have  been  reading  a  novel  1" 

"But  I  am  about  to  be  exceedingly  busy,"  said  MaT)yn,  petu- 
lantly. "  You  can't  expect  people  to  be  always  working  and — 
I  tell  you  I  can't  go  with  you,  Mr.  Trelyon." 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  said  he,  carelessly ;  "  you  needn't  show  your 
temper." 

F 


122  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  J/y  temper !"  said  Mabyn  ;  but  then  recollecting  herself,  and 
smiling  derisively,  went  away  to  fetch  her  sister. 

"VMien  AVenna  came  outside  into  the  white  sunlight,  and  went 
forward  to  shake  hands  with  him,  with  her  dark  eyes  lit  up  by 
a  friendly  smile,  it  seemed  to  him  that  not  for  many  a  day — not 
certainly  during  all  the  time  of  her  engagement  with  Mr.  Roscorla 
— had  he  seen  her  look  so  pleased,  happy,  and  contented.  She 
still  bore  that  quiet  gravity  of  demeanor  which  had  made  him  call 
her  the  little  Puritan,  and  there  was  the  same  earnestness  in  her 
eyes  as  they  regarded  any  one  ;  but  there  was  altogether  a  bright- 
er aspect  about  her  face  that  pleased  him  exceedingly.  For  he 
was  very  well  disposed  to  this  shy  and  yet  matter-of-fact  young 
lady,  and  was  alternately  amused  by  the  quaintness  of  her  moth- 
erly ways  in  dealing  with  the  people  about  her,  and  startled  into 
admiration  by  some  sudden  glimpse  of  the  fine  sincerity  of  her 
nature.  He  had  done  more  to  please  her — he  had  gone  to  church 
several  times,  and  tried  to  better  his  handwriting,  and  resolved  to 
be  more  careful  in  speaking  of  parsons  in  her  presence — than  he 
ever  thought  he  could  have  done  to  please  any  woman. 

So  these  two  set  forth  on  this  bright  and  cheerful  morning; 
and  one  would  have  said,  to  see  them  as  they  went,  that  two  hap- 
pier young  folks  were  not  within  the  county  of  Cornwall  at  that 
moment.  Wenna  had  a  pleasant  word  for  every  one  that  passed ; 
and  when  they  had  gone  by  the  mill,  and  reached  the  narrow 
path  by  the  tiny  harbor,  where  no  more  neighbors  were  to  be 
seen,  she  appeared  to  transfer  her  abounding  sympathy  to  all  the 
objects  around  her,  and  she  spoke  to  them  and  laughed  to  them, 
so  that  all  the  world  seemed  to  be  friendly  with  her.  Iler  sister 
used  to  say  that  her  fingers  tingled  to  the  very  tips  with  kindness ; 
and  at  this  moment  she  seemed  as  though  she  could  have  kissed 
her  hand  to  all  the  birds  and  animals  around,  and  wished  them 
joy  that  they  had  so  fine  a  morning. 

"  Ho,  ho  !  Mr.  Porpoise,"  she  laughed  and  said,  as  she  saw  far 
below  her  a  big  fish  slowly  heel  over  in  the  blue  water  of  the  har- 
bor ;  "  don't  you  come  too  far  up,  or  you  w^on't  like  the  stones  in 
the  stream,  I  know  !" 

There  was  a  hawk  hovering  high  in  the  air  over  Blackcliff — 
Trelyon  was  watching  it  keenly. 

"  Oh,  go  away,  you  bad  bird,"  she  cried,  "  and  let  the  poor 
little  things  alone !"    And,  sure  enough,  at  this  moment  the  mo- 


THE    FAIR    SPRING-TIME.  123 

tionless  speck  up  there  began  to  flutter  its  wings,  and  presently  it 
sailed  away  over  the  cliff  and  was  seen  no  more. 

"  Mother  Sheep,"  she  said  to  the  inattentive  custodian  of  two 
very  small  lambs  with  very  thick  legs  and  uncertain  gait,  "  why  ■ 
don't  you  look  after  your  children  ?  you'll  have  them  tumbling 
down  the  rocks  into  the  sea  in  about  a  minute — that's  about  what 
you'll  do !" 

"  Boom !"  she  said  to  a  great  humble-bee  that  flew  heavily  by ; 
and  to  a  white  butterfly  that  went  this  way  and  that  over  the 
warm  grass  on  the  hill-side  she  called  out,  "  My  pretty  lady,  aren't 
you  glad  the  summer  is  coming  ?" 

She  talked  to  the  white  and  gray  gulls  that  were  wheeling  over 
the  sea,  and  to  the  choughs  flying  hither  and  thither  about  the 
steep  precipices  of  the  cliff.  They  did  not  answer  her ;  but  that 
was  no  matter.  From  her  childhood  she  had  believed  that  she 
knew  them  all,  and  that  they  knew  her ;  and  that  even  the  cliffs 
and  the  sea  and  the  clouds  regarded  her,  and  spoke  to  her  in  a 
strange  and  silent  fashion.  Once  she  had  come  back  from  the 
mouth  of  the  harbor  on  a  sultry  afternoon,  when  as  yet  the  neigh- 
bors had  heard  nothing  of  the  low  mutterino-s  of  the  distant  and 
coming  storm ;  and  when  her  mother  asked  the  child  w^hy  she 
was  so  silent,  she  said,  "  I  have  been  listening  to  God  walking  on 
the  sea." 

Well,  they  sat  down  on  a  seat  which  fronted  the  wide  opening 
in  the  cliffs  and  the  great  plain  of  the  Atlantic  beyond,  that  was 
this  morning  of  a  light  and  sunny  sea-gi'een,  with  here  and  there 
broad  purple  stains  of  shadow  as  the  summer  clouds  passed  rap- 
idly over  the  sky  from  the  west.  In  the  warm  sunshine,  the  gorse 
on  the  hill  behind  them  and  the  grass  on  the  pasture-land  sweet- 
ened the  air.  The  wind  blew  fresh  in  from  the  sea ;  and  as  the 
green  waves  broke  white  along  the  rocks  beneath  them,  the  brisk 
breeze  carried  with  it  a  flavor  of  salt  from  the  fine  clouds  of  the 
spray.  The  spring-time  seemed  to  have  given  life  and  color  to 
the  sea  as  well  as  to  the  land,  for  all  the  world  was  brilliant  with 
the  new  brightness  of  the  skies. 

"And  isn't  it  first-rate,"  said  Master  Uarry,  wishing  to  say 
something  very  pleasant  to  his  companion,  "  that  Mr.  Roscorla  is 
having  such  fine  weather  on  his  way  out  ?  I  am  sure  you  would 
have  been  very  anxious  if  there  had  been  any  storms  about.  I 
hope  he  will  be  successful ;  he's  a  good  sort  of  fellow." 


124  THREE    FEATHERS. 

No  one  who  was  not  acquainted  with  this  young  gentleman 
could  have  guessed  at  the  dire  effort  he  had  to  make  in  order  to 
pronounce  these  few  sentences.  He  was  not  accustomed  to  say 
formally  civil  things.  He  w^as  very  bad  at  paying  compliments ; 
and  as  for  saying  anything  friendly  of  Mr.  Koscorla,  he  had  to  do 
it  with  a  mental  grimace.  But  AVcnna  was  very  familiar  with 
the  lad  and  his  ways.  At  another  time  she  would  have  been 
amused  and  pleased  to  observe  his  endeavors  to  be  polite ;  and 
now,  if  she  hastened  away  from  the  subject,  it  was  only  because 
she  never  heard  Mr.  Roscorla's  name  mentioned  without  feeling 
embarrassment  and  showing  it.  She  murmured  something  about 
a  hope  that  Mr.  Roscorla  would  not  find  the  voyage  to  Jamaica 
fatiguing ;  and  then,  somewhat  hastily,  drew  her  companion's  at- 
tention to  another  porpoise  which  was  showing  itself  from  time 
to  time  outside  the  rocks. 

"  I  wish  Roscorla  had  made  me  your  guardian  in  his  absence," 
said  this  blundering  young  man,  who  was  determined  to  be  on  his 
best  behavior.  "  I  quite  agree  with  Mabyn  that  you  overwork 
yourself  in  doing  for  other  people  what  the  lazy  beggars  ought  to 
do  for  themselves.  Oh,  I  know  more  than  you  think.  I'd  wake 
some  of  them  up  if  I  had  the  chance.  Why,  they  look  on  you 
as  a  sort  of  special  Providence,  bound  to  rescue  them  at  any  mo- 
ment. I  was  told  only  yesterday  of  old  Mother  Truscott  having 
said  to  a  neighbor, '  Well,  if  Miss  Wenna  won't  help  me,  then  the 
Lord's  will  be  done.' " 

"  Oh  yes,  I  know,"  said  his  companion,  with  some  impatience  ; 
"  she  is  always  saying  that.  I  said  to  her  the  other  day,  when  I 
got  out  of  temper, '  "VMiy,  of  course  the  Lord's  will  will  be  done ; 
you  don't  suppose  he  wants  your  permission  ?  But  if  j'ou'd  only 
look  after  your  own  house,  and  bestir  yourself,  and  keep  it  smart, 
your  husband  Avouldn't  go  on  as  he  does.'  There's  nothing  I 
hate  worse  than  that  sort  of  pretended  piety.  Why,  when  Abia- 
thar  Annot's  boy  died,  I  thought  he'd  be  out  of  his  senses  with 
grief,  and  I  went  up  to  see  if  he  was  all  right  about  the  house, 
and  to  say  a  friendly  word  to  him ;  and  directly  I  went  into  the 
house  he  said  to  me,  quite  complacently, '  Well,  Miss  Rosewarne, 
you  know  we  must  bow  to  the  will  of  the  Lord,  and  accept  his 
chastenings  as  mercies.'  *  Oh,'  said  I,  '  if  you  take  it  that  way, 
I've  no  more  to  say ;'  and  I  left  the  place.  I  don't  believe  in  all 
that  sort  of—" 


THE    FAIR    SPRING-TIME.  125 

She  suddenly  stopped,  recollecting  to  whom  she  was  speaking. 
Were  these  proper  confessions  to  be  made  to  a  young  man  who 
had  such  a  godless  hatred  of  parsons  and  churches  and  all  good 
things ;  and  whose  conversion  to  more  respectable  ways  she  had 
many  a  time  wished  to  attempt  ?  She  dropped  that  subject ;  and 
Master  Harry  was  so  resolved  to  be  proper  and  virtuous  that  morn- 
ing that  he  took  no  advantage  of  what  she  had  said.  He  even, 
in  an  awkward  fashion,  observed  that  all  pious  people  were  not 
hypocrites ;  one  had  to  draw  distinctions.  Of  course  there  were 
pious  people  who  were  really  sincere.  He  hoped  Miss  Wenna 
would  not  suspect  him  of  being  so  prejudiced  as  not  to  know 
that.  Miss  Wenna  Avas  a  little  inclined  to  smile,  but  she  con- 
trolled her  lips ;  and  Master  Harry,  having  paid  these  ingenuous 
compliments  to  virtue  and  religion,  rose  with  a  frank  sigh  of  re- 
lief, proposed  that  they  should  continue  their  walk  up  the  hill, 
and  was  soon  engaged  in  telling  her — with  a  much  gayer  tone  in 
his  voice  and  with  a  return  to  his  old  impertinent  carelessness — 
of  some  wild  adventure  in  cliff-hunting  which  he  and  his  faithful 
Dick  had  encountered  together. 

They  seemed  to  be  in  no  great  hurry,  these  two.  It  was  a 
morning  that  invited  to  idleness.  They  chatted  about  all  sorts 
of  things,  or  were  silent,  with  equal  and  happy  indifference :  he 
watching  the  sea-birds,  she  stooping  from  time  to  time  to  pick  up 
some  tiny  flower  of  pale  yellow  or  purple.  In  this  fashion  they 
made  their  way  up  to  the  summit  of  the  cliffs,  and  there  before 
them  lay  the  great  plain  of  the  windy  sea,  and  the  long  wall  of 
precipice  running  down  into  the  southwest,  and  the  high  and 
bleak  uplands,  marked  by  the  square  towers  of  small  and  distant 
churches.  They  struck  across  the  fields  to  one  of  those  churches 
— that  which  Master  Harry  had  been  persuaded  to  visit.  The 
place  was  now  silent  enough :  two  jackdaws  sat  on  the  slender 
weathercock;  the  sunlight  was  warm  on  the  silvery  gray  tower, 
and  on  the  long  green  grass  in  the  churchyard,  in  which  the  first 
daisies  of  the  spring  had  appeared.  Then  they  went  down  through 
some  narrow  lai;es  towards  the  higher  portion  of  Eglosilyan  ;  and 
under  the  hedges  were  masses  of  pale  primroses,  and  the  purple 
blossoms  of  the  ground-ivy,  and  the  golden  stars  of  the  celandine. 
They  drew  near  some  of  the  cottages ;  and  in  the  gardens  the 
flowering  currant  was  in  bloom,  and  everywhere  there  was  a  scent 
of  wallflower.     They  crossed  the  main  thoroughfare  of  the  vil- 


12G  THREE    FEATHERS. 

lage ;  it  was  empty  but  for  the  presence  of  a  small  boy,  wlio,  Avith 
a  slate  slun»  on  one  side  and  a  bag  made  of  carpet  slung  on  tbe 
other,  had  apparently  been  sent  home  from  school  for  some  reason 
or  other.  The  youthful  scholar  most  respectfully  took  off  his  cap 
to  Miss  Wenna  as  she  gave  him  a  kindly  greeting  in  passing. 

"  They  say  all  that  is  owing  to  you,"  Trelyon  remarked. 

"All  what?" 

"  The  good  manners  of  the  people  in  this  village.  The  women 
bob  you  a  curtsy  as  you  pass,  the  girls  say  good-morning  or  good- 
evening,  the  boys  take  off  their  caps,  even  if  you  are  a  perfect 
strangei-.  But  you  don't  suppose  that  happens  in  every  village  in 
Cornwall?  My  mother  was  speaking  about  it  only  this  morn- 
ing." 

Wenna  was  sufficiently  surprised  to  know  that  she  had  got  the 
credit  of  the  courtesy  shown  to  strangers  by  the  Eglosilyan  folks ; 
but  even  more  surprised  to  learn  that  Master  Harry  had  deigned 
to  engage  in  conversation  with  his  mother.  lie  also  seemed  to 
be  taking  his  first  lessons  in  civility. 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  "  that  boy  ought  to  pay  me  every  attention  to 
make  up  for  his  bad  conduct.  He  was  once  a  sweetheart  of  mine, 
and  he  deceived  me.     He  sold  me  for  sixpence." 

She  sighed. 

"  It  is  true.  He  adopted  me  as  his  sweetheart,  and  every  time 
I  saw  him  he  promised  to  marry  me  when  he  grew  up.  But  there 
came  a  change.  He  avoided  me,  and  I  had  to  catch  him,  and  ask 
him  why.  He  confessed.  I  wasn't  his  sweetheart  any  more.  His 
elder  brother,  aged  ten,  I  think,  had  also  wanted  me  for  a  sweet- 
heart, and  he  had  a  sixpence ;  and  sixpence  was  the  price  of  a 
new  sort  of  spinning-top  that  had  just  been  put  into  the  window 
at  the  Post-office ;  and  the  elder  brother  proposed  to  the  younger 
brother  to  take  the  sixpence  and  buy  the  top,  and  hand  me  over. 
'  So  yii  baint  my  sweetheart  anny  mower,'  said  that  young  gentle- 
man, forgetting  his  good  English  in  his  grief.  But  I  think  he 
has  a  tender  recollection  of  me  even  now." 

"  I'd  have  thrashed  the  little  brute  for  his  meanness,  if  I  had 
been  you,"  said  her  companion,  in  his  off-hand  way. 

*'  Oh  no,"  she  answered,  with  a  meek  sarcasm ;  *'  wasn't  he  only 
doing  as  a  child  what  grown-up  gentlemen  are  said  to  do  ?  When 
there  is  money  on  the  one  hand  and  a  sweetheart  on  the  other,  is 
not  the  sweetheart  ordinarily  thrown  over  ?" 


THE    FAIR    SPRING-TIME.  127 

"  What  can  you  know  about  it  ?"  lie  said,  bluntlj'.  "  In  any 
case,  you  don't  run  any  danger.  Mr.  Roscorla  is  not  likely  to  be 
tempted  by  bags  of  gold." 

Mr.  Roscorla — always  Mr.  Roscorla.  Wenna,  who  crimsoned 
deeply  at  the  slightest  reference  to  the  relations  between  herself 
and  her  absent  lover,  began  to  be  somewhat  angry  with  this 
thoughtless  lad,  who  would  continually  introduce  the  name.  What 
was  his  object  in  doing  so  ?  To  show  her  that  he  never  failed  to 
remember  her  position,  and  that  that  was  his  excuse  for  talking 
very  frankly  to  her,  as  he  would  have  done  to  a  sister  ?  Or  mere- 
ly to  please  her  by  speaking  of  one  who  ought  to  be  very  dear  to 
her  ?  She  was  not  indebted  to  him  for  this  blundering  effort  of 
kindness ;  and  on  any  less  cheerful  morning  might  have  visited 
him  with  one  of  those  fits  of  formal  politeness  or  of  constrained 
silence  with  which  young  ladies  arc  accustomed  to  punish  too  for- 
ward acquaintances. 

But  Miss  Wenna  had  it  not  in  her  heart  to  be  reserved  on  this 
pleasant  forenoon ;  she  good-naturedly  overlooked  the  pertina- 
cious mistakes  of  her  companion  ;  and  talked  to  him — and  to  the 
flowers  and  birds  and  trees  around  her — with  a  happy  careless- 
ness, until  the  two  of  them  together  made  their  way  up  to  the 
Hall.  Just  as  Master  Harry  opened  the  gate  at  the  end  of  the 
avenue,  and  turned  to  let  her  through,  he  seemed  for  the  first  time 
to  notice  her  dress.  He  made  no  scruple  of  stopping  her  for  a 
moment  to  look  at  it. 

"  Oh,  I  say,  I  wish  you  could  get  my  mother  to  dress  like  you !" 

The  burst  of  admiration  was  so  genuine  that  Miss  Wenna — 
being  only  a  girl — was  very  much  pleased  indeed ;  and  blushed  a 
little,  and  would  rather  have  passed  on.  There  was  nothing,  in- 
deed, remarkable  about  her  costume — about  the  rough  light  gray 
dress  witli  its  touches  here  and  there  of  blue,  nor  yet  about  the 
white  hat  with  its  forget-me-nots  and  big  white  daisies — except 
that  it  seemed  to  fit  well  a  very  pretty  figure,  and  also  that  the 
blue  suited  the  dark  and  clear  complexion  and  the  dark  eyes  and 
hair. 

"  I'm  sick  of  her  stalking  about  the  house  in  the  guise  of  a 
ghost — she  all  white,  everything  else  black.  I  say,  Wenna,  don't 
you  think  you  could  get  her  to  dress  like  a  human  being  ?" 

"  But  if  it  is  her  wish,  you  ought  to  respect  it." 

"  It's  only  a  craze,"  he  said,  impatiently. 


128  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  It  may  seem  so  to  you,"  his  companion  said ;  "  but  she  has 
her  own  reasons  for  it,  and  they  deserve  your  sympathy,  even 
though  they  may  not  convince  you.  And  you  ought  not  to  speak 
in  that  harsh  Avay  of  one  who  is  so  very  good  and  gentle,  and 
who  is  so  considerate  towards  you." 

"  Oh,  you  always  find  excuses  for  people,"  he  said,  roughly. 
"  Everybody  should  be  considered  and  respected,  and  have  their 
fine  feelings  praised  and  coddled,  according  to  you.  Everybody 
is  perfect,  according  to  you." 

"  Oh  dear,  no,"  she  said,  quite  humbly.  "  I  know  one  or  two 
people  whose  conduct  and  habits,  and  their  manners,  too,  might 
be  very  much  improved  indeed." 

"I  suppose  you  mean  me?"  he  said. 

"And  if  I  did?"  she  said,  boldly.  "Don't  you  think,  when 
you  want  your  mother  to  be  just  as  you  would  have  her  to  be, 
that  she  might  turn  around  and  say  that  there  Avas  a  great  deal 
more  in  you  that  she  might  wish  to  have  altered  ?  You  know  her 
manner  of  life  is  not  necessarily  wrong  merely  because  you  can't 
understand  it.     As  for  yours — " 

"  Go  ahead  !"  he  cried,  with  a  loud  and  suddenly  good-natured 
laugh.  "  Heap  up  all  my  sins  on  my  head !  I'm  getting  used 
to  be  leciured  now.  Please,  Lliss  Puritan,  would  you  like  me  to 
get  a  surplice  and  come  and  sing  hymns  in  the  choir?" 

Miss  Puritan  did  not  answer.  There  was  no  look  of  annoyance 
on  her  face — only  a  certain  calm  reserve  that  told  her  companion 
that  he  had  somehow  wounded  the  friendly  confidence  that  had 
sprung  up  between  them  during  this  pleasant  morning  ramble. 
And  at  this  moment  they  reached  the  front  of  the  Hall,  where 
Mrs.  Trelyon  came  forward  to  greet  her  visitor ;  so  that  Master 
Harry  had  no  further  opportunity  just  then  of  asking  her  whether 
he  had  otfcudcd  her,  and  of  making  an  apology.  He  listened  for 
a  few  minutes  to  his  mother  talking  to  Wenna  about  that  Sewing 
Club.  He  became  impatient  with  himself,  and  vexed,  for  Wenna 
seemed  in  nowise  to  recognize  his  presence ;  and  of  course  his 
mother  did  not  ask  his  advice  about  the  purchase  of  flannel.  He 
tossed  about  the  books  on  the  table ;  he  teased  an  Angola  cat 
that  was  lying  before  the  fire  until  it  tried  to  bite  him,  and  then 
he  put  its  nose  into  the  water  of  a  flower-vase.  With  the  feather 
of  a  quill  dipped  in  ink  he  drew  a  fox  on  one  of  the  white  tiles 
of  the  fireplace ;  and  then  he  endeavored  to  remove  that  work  of 


ONLY  A  BASKET  OF  PRIMROSES.  129 

art  with  the  edge  of  a  scarlet-and-gold  footstool.  These  various 
occupations  affording  him  no  relief,  he  got  up,  stretched  his  legs, 
and  said  to  his  mother — 

*' Mother,  you  keep  her  here  for  lunch.  I  shall  be  back  at 
two." 

*'  Oh,  but  I  can't  stay  so  long,"  Wenna  said,  suddenly ;  "  I 
know  I  shall  be  wanted  at  home." 

"  Oh  no,  you  won't,"  the  young  gentleman  said,  coolly ;  "  I  know 
you  won't.  Mabyn  told  me  so.  Besides,  I  am  going  down  now 
to  tell  them  you  will  be  back  at  four." 

And  so  he  went  away,  but  his  walk  down  to  the  inn  was  not  as 
pleasant  as  that  roundabout  ramble  up  to  the  Hall  had  been. 


CHAPTER  XVn. 

ONLY    A    BASKET    OF    PRIMROSES. 


"  What  a  busy  life  you  must  lead !"  said  Mrs.  Trelyon,  look- 
ing with  a  gentle  wonder  at  the  young  lady  before  her.  "  You 
seem  to  know  how  to  do  anything." 

Miss  Wenna  colored  a  little,  and  said  something  about  having 
had  to  help  her  mother  for  many  years  past. 

"  And  such  a  knowledge  of  the  world  as  you  have !"  Mrs.  Tre- 
lyon continued,  unconsciously  staring  at  the  girl  as  if  she  were 
some  strange  phenomenon.     "  Where  did  you  get  it  ?" 

*'  That  I  am  sure  I  have  not  got,"  Wenna  said,  brightening  con- 
siderably, "  for  the  strangers  who  come  to  the  inn  of  course  don't 
speak  to  me,  except  one  or  two  of  the  very  old  ladies  sometimes, 
and  all  they  speak  about  is  the  scenery.  But  Mabyn  and  I  read 
the  remarks  in  the  Visitors'  Book,  and  these  are  very  amusing, 
especially  the  poetry  that  the  young  gentlemen  write  ;  and,  in- 
deed, Mrs.  Trelyon,  if  one  were  to  judge  by  that  book,  one  would 
think  that  the  world  was  very  silly.  The  elderly  gentlemen  gen- 
erally praise  the  cooking;  the  elderly  ladies  generally  say  some- 
thing nice  about  the  cleanliness  of  the  bedrooms  and  the  good 
attendance ;  and  the  young  ladies  write  about  anything,  recom- 
mending other  visitors  to  go  to  particular  places,  or  saying  what 
they  think  of  the  Cornish  peasantry.     I  am  sure  they  are  all  very 

F2 


130  THREE    FEATHERS. 

good-natured  to  us,  and  say  very  nice  things  of  tlie  inn  ;  but  then 
it  looks  so  silly.  And  the  young  gentlemen  are  far  the  worst — 
especially  the  University  young  gentlemen,  for  they  write  such 
stupid  poetry  and  make  such  bad  jokes.  I  suppose  it  is  that  the 
fresh  air  gives  them  very  good  spirits,  and  they  don't  care  what 
they  say,  and  they  never  expect  that  their  friends  will  see  what 
they  have  written.  I  have  noticed,  though,  that  the  walking 
gentlemen  never  write  such  things  when  they  are  leaving,  for 
they  are  always  too  anxious  about  the  number  of  miles  they  have 
to  get  over  on  that  day,  and  they  are  always  anxious,  too,  about 
the  heels  of  their  stockings.     If  you  would  like  to  see  the  book — " 

Wenna  stopped.  Mrs.  Trelyon  had  been  very  good  in  extend- 
ing a  sort  of  acquaintance  to  her,  and  now  proposed  to  help  her 
in  a  way  with  her  work.  But  she  was  going  too  far  in  expecting 
that  this  reserved  and  silent  lady  should  become  a  visitor  at  the 
inn,  or  interest  herself  in  its  commonplace  affairs.  At  this  mo- 
ment, indeed,  Mrs.  Trelyon  was  so  very  much  reserved  that  she  did 
not  notice  either  Wenna's  tentative  invitation  or  her  embarrass- 
ment when  she  cut  it  short. 

"  I  wish,"  she  said,  absently,  showing  what  she  bad  been  think- 
ing about — "I  wish  you  could  get  Harry  to  go  to  one  of  the 
Universities." 

It  was  now  Wenna's  turn  to  stare.  Did  the  mother  of  that 
young  gentleman  seriously  think  that  this  stranger-girl  had  such 
an  influence  over  him  ? 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Trelyon,"  Wenna  said,  "  how  could  I—  ?" 

"  lie  would  do  anything  for  you,"  the  gentle  lady  said,  with 
much  simplicity  and  honesty.  "  He  pays  no  attention  to  any- 
thing I  say  to  him ;  but  he  would  do  anything  for  you.  His 
whole  manner  changes  when  you  are  in  the  house.  I  think  you 
are  the  only  person  in  the  world  he  is  afraid  of.  And  it  was  §o 
good  of  you  to  get  him  to  go  to  church." 

*'  I  am  sure  it  was  not  I,"  said  Wenna,  getting  rather  afraid. 

"But  I  know,"  said  Mrs.  Trelyon,  quite  affectionately,  "for  I 
have  seen  everybody  else  try  and  fail.  You  see,  my  dear,  you  are 
in  a  peculiar  position.  You  are  young,  and  a  pleasant  companion 
for  a  young  man ;  and  as  you  are  no  relation  of  his,  he  is  cour- 
teous to  you.  And  then,  you  see,  your  being  engaged  to  be  mar- 
ried enables  him  to  speak  freely  to  you  and  treat  you  as  a  friend ; 
and  I  think,  besides,  you  have  acquired  some  means  of  keeping 


ONLY  A  BASKET  OF  PRIMROSES.  131 

him  in  check,  and  having  authority  over  him,  and  I  am  sure  he 
would  do  more  for  you  than  for  any  one  I  know.  As  for  me,  I 
have  never  had  any  control  over  him ;  but  he  is  at  least  civil  to 
me  when  you  are  in  the  room." 

Wenna  rose. 

"  Mrs.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  "  don't  you  think  it  is  a  pity  to  stay 
indoors  on  such  a  beautiful  morning  ?  The  air  is  quite  mild  and 
warm  outside." 

She  was  glad  to  get  out.  There  was  something  in  this  decla- 
ration of  her  responsibility  for  the  young  man's  conduct  which 
considerably  startled  and  frightened  her.  It  was  all  very  well  for 
her  to  administer  an  occasional  sharp  reproof  to  him  when  he  was 
laughing  and  joking  with  herself  and  Mabyn ;  but  to  become  the 
recognized  monitress  of  so  wild  a  pupil  as  Master  Harry — to  have 
his  own  mother  appeal  to  her — that  was  quite  a  different  affair. 
And  on  this  occasion,  when  Mrs,  Trelyon  had  got  a  shawl  and 
come  outside  with  her  guest,  all  her  talk  was  about  her  son,  and 
his  ways  and  his  prospects.  It  was  very  clear  that,  with  all  her 
lamentations  over  his  conduct,  Mrs.  Trelyon  was  very  fond  of  the 
young  man,  and  was  quite  assured,  too,  that  he  had  the  brains  to 
do  anything  he  might  be  induced  to  undertake.  Wenna  listened 
in  a  vague  way  to  all  these  complaints  and  speculations  and  covert 
praises ;  she  did  not  find  her  position  so  embarrassing  in  the  open 
air  as  in  that  close  drawing-room.  They  walked  through  the  leafy 
alleys  of  the  garden,  unconsciously  regarding  the  beautiful  color 
of  the  new  spring  flowers,  and  listening  to  the  larks  singing  high 
up  in  the  blue.  From  time  to  time,  as  they  turned,  they  caught 
a  glimpse  of  hills  all  ablaze  with  gorse;  and  near  the  horizon  a 
long  line  of  pale  azure  with  a  single  white  ship  visible  in  the  haze. 
On  the  other  side  of  the  valley  a  man  was  harrowing ;  they  could 
hear  him  calling  to  the  horses,  and  the  jingling  of  the  chains. 
Then  there  was  the  murmur  of  the  stream  far  below,  where  the 
sunlight  just  caught  the  light  green  of  the  larches.  These,  and 
the  constant  singing  of  the  birds  around  them,  were  the  only 
sounds  that  accompanied  their  talk,  as  they  wandered  this  Avay 
and  that,  by  brilliant  garden-plots  or  through  shaded  avenues, 
where  the  air  was  sweet  with  the  fresh  scents  of  the  opening 
summer. 

And  at  last  they  came  back  to  the  proposal  that  Wenna  should 
try  to  persuade  Master  Ilarry  to  go  to  Oxford  or  Cambridge. 


132  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  But,  Mrs.  Trelyon,"  the  girl  said  earnestly,  "  I  am  quite  sure 
you  mistake  altogether  my  relations  Avlth  your  son.  I  could  not 
presume  to  give  him  advice.  It  would  not  be  my  place  to  do  so 
even  if  we  were  on  the  footing  of  friends,  and  that,  at  present,  is 
out  of  the  question.  Don't  you  see,  Mrs.  Trelyon,  that  because 
Mr.  Trelyon  in  coming  about  the  inn  was  good-natured  enough  to 
make  the  acquaintance  of  my  father  and  to  talk  to  us  girls,  it 
would  not  do  for  any  of  us  to  forget  how  Ave  are  situated?  I 
don't  anyway — perhaps  because  I  am  proud — but,  at  all  events, 
I  should  not  presume  on  Mr.  Trelyon's  good-nature.  Don't  you 
see,  Mrs.  Trelyon  ?" 

"  I  see  that  you  are  a  very  practical  and  sensible  and  plain- 
spoken  young  lady,"  her  companion  said,  regarding  her  with  a 
kindly  look,  "  but  I  think  you  don't  do  my  son  justice.  It  is  not 
thoughtlessness  that  made  him  make  your  acquaintance.  I  don't 
think  he  ever  did  a  more  prudent  thing  in  his  life  before.  And 
then,  dear  Miss  Rosewarne,  you  must  remember — if  I  may  speak 
of  such  a  thing — that  you  will  soon  be  the  wife  of  one  of  the  very 
few  friends  we  have  about  here ;  and  you  must  excuse  us  if  we 
claim  you  as  a  friend  already,  and  try  to  take  advantage  of  your 
friendship.     Now,  do  you  see  that  ?" 

"Wenna  was  not  persuaded ;  but  she  was,  at  all  events,  very 
pleased  to  see  that  occasionally  Mrs.  Trelyon  could  forget  her 
brooding,  sentimental  fancies,  and  become  comparatively  bright 
and  talkative. 

"  Now  will  you  say  a  word  to  him  when  he  comes  home  for 
lunch?" 

"  Oh  no,  I  can't  do  that,  Mrs.  Trelyon,"  Wenna  said;  "  it  would 
be  quite  rude  of  me  to  do  that.  Besides,  if  you  would  not  be  dis- 
pleased with  me,  Mrs.  Trelyon,  for  saying  so,  I  don't  think  going 
to  a  University  would  do  him  any  good.  I  don't  think — I  hope 
you  won't  be  vexed  with  me — that  he  has  had  sufficient  school- 
ing. And  isn't  there  an  examination  before  you  could  get  in? 
Well,  I  don't  know  about  that ;  but  I  am  quite  sure  that  if  he  did 
get  in,  he  would  be  too  proud  to  put  himself  in  competition  with 
the  other  young  men  who  were  properly  prepared  for  study,  and 
lie  would  take  to  boating  or  cricket,  or  some  such  thing.  Now 
don't  you  think,  Mrs.  Trelyon,  he  would  be  as  well  occupied  in 
amusing  himself  here,  where  you  might  gradually  get  him  to  take 
an  intei^st  in  something  besides  shooting  and  fishing  ?     He  knows 


ONLY  A  BASKET  OF  PRIMROSES.  133 

far  more  things  tlian  most  people  fancy,  I  know  that.  My  father 
says  he  is  very  clever,  and  can  pick  up  anything  you  tell  him  ; 
and  that  he  knows  more  about  the  management  of  an  estate,  and 
about  the  slate  quarries,  and  about  mining  too,  than  people  imag- 
ine. And  as  for  me,"  added  the  girl  bravely,  "  I  will  say  this, 
that  I  think  him  very  clever  indeed,  and  that  he  will  make  a 
straightforward  and  honorable  man,  and  I  should  like  to  see  him 
in  Parliament,  where  he  would  be  able  to  hold  his  own,  I  know." 

"  Oh,  my  dear !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Trelyon,  with  a  joyful  face,  "  I 
am  so  grateful  to  you.  I  am  so  proud  to  know  you  think  so 
highly  of  him.  And  won't  you  say  a  word  to  him  ?  He  will  do 
whatever  you  please." 

But  Miss  Wenna  had  somehow  been  startled  into  that  confes- 
sion, and  the  sudden  burst  of  honesty  left  her  considerably  ashamed 
and  embarrassed.  She  would  not  promise  to  intermeddle  in  the 
matter,  whatever  she  had  been  induced  to  say  about  the  future  of 
the  young  man.  She  stooped  to  pick  up  a  flower  to  cover  her 
confusion,  and  then  she  asked  Mrs.  Trelyon  to  be  good  enough  to 
excuse  her  staying  to  lunch. 

"  Oh  no,  I  dare  not  do  that,"  Mrs.  Trelyon  said ;  "  Harry  would 
pull  the  house  down  when  he  found  I  had  let  you  go.  You  know 
•we  have  no  visitors  at  present,  and  it  will  be  such  a  pleasure  to 
have  him  lunch  with  me ;  he  seldom  does,  and  never  at  all  if 
there  are  visitors.  But  really.  Miss  Rosewame,  it  is  so  inconsider- 
ate of  me  to  talk  always  of  him,  as  if  you  were  as  much  interest- 
ed as  myself.  Why,  the  whole  morning  we  have  not  said  a  word 
about  you  and  all  you  are  looking  forward  to.  I  hope  you  will 
be  happy.  I  am  sure  you  will  be,  for  you  have  such  a  sensible 
way  of  regarding  things,  and  all  is  sure  to  go  Avell.  I  must  say 
that  I  thought  Harry  was  a  little  more  mad  than  usual  when  he 
first  told  me  about  that  money ;  but  now  I  know  you,  I  am  very, 
very  glad  indeed,  and  very  pleased  that  I  could  be  of  some  little 
service  to  Mr.  Roscorla  for  your  sake." 

The  girl  beside  her  did  not  understand ;  she  looked  up  with 
wondering  eyes. 

"  What  money,  Mrs.  Trelyon  ?" 

"  I  mean  the  money  that  Harry  got  for  Mr.  Roscorla — the  mon- 
ey, you  know,  for  these  Jamaica  estates ;  is  it  possible  Mr.  Roscorla 
did  not  tell  you  before  he  left  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  it,  Mrs.  Trelyon,  and  I  hope  you 


134  THREE    FEATHERS. 

will  tell  me  at  once,"  Wenna  said,  with  some  decision  in  her  tone, 
but  with  a  strange  sinking  at  her  heart. 

"  You  don't  know,  then  ?"  Mrs.  Trelyon  said,  with  a  sudden  fear 
that  she  had  been  indiscreet.  "  Oh,  it  is  nothing,  a  mere  business 
arrangement.  Of  course,  gentlemen  don't  care  to  have  these  things 
talked  over.  I  hope  you  won't  mention  it,  dear  Miss  Rosewarne ; 
I  really  thought  you  might  have  overheard  them  speaking  of  the 
matter." 

Wenna  said  nothing.  The  soft  dark  eyes  looked  a  little  troubled, 
but  that  was  all.  And  presently  up  came  young  Trelyon,  full  of 
good  spirits  and  noise  and  bustle ;  and  he  drove  his  mother  and 
Wenna  before  him  into  the  house ;  and  hurried  up  the  servants, 
and  Avould  open  the  wine  himself.  Ilis  mother  checked  him  for 
whistling  at  luncheon ;  his  reply  was  to  toss  the  leg  of  a  fowl  on 
to  the  hearthrug,  where  a  small  and  shaggy  terrier  immediately 
began  to  worry  it.  He  put  the  Angola  cat  on  the  table  to  see  if 
it  would  eat  some  Cornish  cream  oS  his  plate.  Ilis  pigeons  got 
to  know  of  his  being  in  the  house,  and  came  flying  about  the 
windows  and  walking  jerkingly  over  the  lawn ;  he  threw  up  the 
windows  and  flung  them  a  couple  of  handfuls  of  crumbs. 

"  Oh,  Miss  Wenna,"  said  he,  "  would  you  like  to  see  my  tame 
fox  ?  I  am  sure  you  would.  Mather,  you  cut  round  to  the  sta- 
bles and  tell  old  Luke  to  bring  that  fox  here — ofE  you  go — leave 
the  claret  this  side." 

"  But  I  do  not  wish  to  see  the  fox  ;  I  particularly  dislike  foxes," 
said  Wenna,  with  some  asperity ;  and  Mather  was  recalled. 

Master  Harry  grinned  to  himself  ;  it  was  the  first  time  he  had 
been  able  to  get  her  to  speak  to  him.  From  the  beginning  of 
luncheon  she  had  sat  almost  silent,  observing  his  vagaries  and  lis- 
tening to  his  random  talk  in  silence ;  when  she  spoke  it  was  always 
in  answer  to  his  mother.  Very  soon  after  luncheon  she  begged 
Mrs.  Trelyon  to  excuse  her  going  away ;  and  then  she  went  and 
put  on  her  hat. 

"  I'll  see  you  down  to  the  inn,"  said  Master  Harry,  when  she 
came  out  to  the  hall-door. 

"  Thank  you,  it  is  quite  unnecessary,"  she  said,  somewhat  cold- 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  "  you  may  be  as  nasty  as  you  please,  but  I  shall 
conquer  you  by  my  extreme  politeness." 

At  another  time  she  would  have  laughed  at  the  notion  of  this 


ONLY  A  BASKET  OF  PRIMROSES.  135 

young  gentleman  complimenting  liimself  on  his  politeness  ;  now, 
as  slie  walked  quietly  down  the  gravelled  path  to  the  gate,  she 
was  very  grave,  and,  indeed,  took  no  notice  of  his  presence. 

"  Wenna,"  said  he,  after  he  had  shut  the  gate  and  rejoined  her, 
"  is  it  fair  to  make  such  a  fuss  about  a  chance  word  ?  I  think  you 
are  very  hard.     I  did  not  mean  to  offend  you." 

"  You  have  not  offended  me,  Mr.  Trelyon." 

"  Then  why  do  you  look  so — so  uncomfortable  ?" 

She  made  no  answer. 

"  Now,  look  here,  do  be  reasonable.  Are  you  vexed  because  I 
called  you  Wenna  ?  Or  is  it  because  I  spoke  about  singing  in  the 
choir  ?" 

"  No,"  she  said,  simply,  "  I  was  not  thinking  of  anything  of  that 
kind;  and  I  am  not  vexed." 

"  Then  what  is  the  matter?" 

For  another  second  or  two  she  was  silent,  apparently  from  ir- 
resolution ;  then  she  suddenly  stopped  in  the  middle  of  the  road, 
and  confronted  him.  "  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  "  is  it  true  that 
you  have  given  Mr.  Roscorla  money,  and  on  my  account  ?" 

"  No,  it  is  not,"  he  said,  considerably  startled  by  her  tone  ; 
"  I  lent  him  some  money — the  money  he  wanted  to  take  to  Ja- 
maica." 

"  And  what  business  had  you  to  do  anything  of  the  sort  ?"  she 
said,  with  the  shame  in  her  heart  lending  a  strangely  unusual 
sharpness  to  her  voice. 

"  Well,"  said  the  young  man,  quite  humbly,  "  I  thought  it  would 
be  a  service  both  to  you  and  to  him ;  and  that  there  was  no  harm 
in  it.  If  he  succeeds,  he  will  pay  me  back.  It  was  precious  silly 
of  him  to  tell  you  anything  about  it ;  but  still.  Miss  Wenna — you 
must  see — now  don't  be  unreasonable — what  harm  could  there  be 
in  it?" 

She  stood  before  him,  her  eyes  cast  down,  her  pale  face  a  trifle 
flushed,  and  her  hands  clasped  tight. 

"  IIow  much  was  it  ?"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Now,  now,  now,"  he  said,  in  a  soothing  way,  "  don't  you 
make  a  fuss  about  it ;  it  is  a  business  transaction ;  men  often  lend 
money  to  each  other — what  a  fool  he  must  have  been  to  have — I 
beg  your  pardon — "  and  then  he  stopped,  frowning  at  his  own 
stupidity. 

"  How  much  was  it  ?" 


13G  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  Well,  if  you  must  know,  five  thousand  pounds." 

"  Five  thousand  pounds !"  she  repeated,  absently.  "  I  am  sure 
my  father  has  not  so  much  money.  But  I  will  bid  you  good-bye 
now,  Mr,  Trelyon." 

And  she  held  out  her  hand. 

"  Mayn't  I  walk  down  with  you  to  the  village  ?"  said  he,  look- 
ing rather  crestfallen. 

"  No,  thank  you,"  she  said,  quietly,  and  then  she  went  away. 

"Well,  he  stood  looking  after  her  for  a  few  seconds.  Now  that 
her  back  was  turned  to  him  and  she  was  going  away,  there  was  no 
longer  any  brightness  in  the  fresh  spring  woods,  nor  any  color  in 
the  clear  skies  overhead.  She  had  been  hard  on  him,  he  felt; 
and  yet  there  was  no  anger  or  impatience  in  his  heart,  only  a 
vague  regret  that  somehow  he  had  wounded  her,  and  that  they 
were  no  longer  good  friends.  He  stood  so  for  a  minute  or  two, 
and  then  he  suddenly  set  out  to  overtake  her.  She  turned  slight- 
ly just  as  he  had  got  up. 

"  Miss  Wenna,"  he  said,  rather  shamefacedly,  "  I  forgot  to  ask 
you  whether  you  would  mind  calling  in  at  Mrs.  Luke's  as  you  go 
by.  There  is  a  basket  of  primroses  there  for  you.  I  set  the 
children  to  gather  them  about  an  hour  ago ;  I  thought  you  would 
like  them." 

She  said  she  would  ;  and  then  he  raised  his  cap  to  her — looked 
at  her  just  for  one  moment — and  turned  and  walked  away.  "Wen- 
na called  for  the  basket,  and  a  very  fine  basket  of  flowers  it  was, 
for  Mrs.  Luke  said  that  Master  Harry  had  given  the  children  six- 
pence apiece  to  gather  the  finest  primroses  they  could  get,  and 
every  one  knows  what  Cornish  primroses  are.  Wenna  took  away 
the  flowers,  not  paying  any  particular  attention  to  them,  and  it 
was  only  when  she  got  into  her  own  room — and  when  she  felt 
very  much  inclined  to  sit  down  and  cry — that  she  noticed  lying 
among  the  large  and  pale  yellow  primroses  a  bit  of  another 
flower  which  one  of  the  children  had  doubtless  placed  there. 
It  was  merely  a  stalk  of  the  small  pink-flowered  saxifrage,  com- 
mon in  cottagers'  gardens,  and  called  in  some  places  London- 
pride;  in  other  parts  of  the  country  they  tenderly  call  it  None- 
so-jjrettij. 


CONFIDENCES.  137 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

CONFIDENCES. 

Meanwhile  during  the  time  that  Wenna  Rosewarne  had  been 
up  at  Trelyon  Hall  her  place  in  the  inn  had  been  occupied  by  a 
very  handsome,  self-willed,  and  gay-hearted  young  lady,  who  had 
endeavored,  after  a  somewhat  wild  fashion,  to  fulfil  her  sister's 
duties.  She  had  gone  singing  through  the  house  to  see  that  the 
maids  had  put  the  rooms  right ;  she  had  had  a  fight  with  Jenni- 
fer about  certain  jellies ;  she  had  petted  her  mother  and  teased 
her  father  into  a  good  humor,  after  which  she  went  outside  in 
her  smart  print  dress  and  bright  ribbons,  and  sat  down  on  the 
bench  of  black  oak  at  the  door.  She  formed  part  of  a  pretty 
picture  there ;  the  bright  April  day  was  still  shining  all  around, 
on  the  plashing  water  of  the  mill,  on  the  pigeons  standing  on  the 
roof,  and  on  the  hills  beyond  the  harbor,  which  were  yellow  with 
masses  of  furze. 

"  And  now,"  said  this  young  lady  to  herself,  "  the  question  is, 
can  I  become  a  villain  ?  If  I  could  only  get  one  of  the  persons 
out  of  a  story  to  tell  me  how  they  managed  to  do  it  successfully, 
how  fine  that  Avould  be!  Here  is  the  letter  in  my  pocket  —  of 
course  it  has  his  address  in  it.  I  burn  the  letter.  Wenna  doesn't 
write  to  him.  He  gets  angry,  and  writes  again  and  again.  I 
burn  each  one  as  it  comes ;  then  he  becomes  indignant,  and  will 
write  no  more.  He  thinks  she  has  forsaken  him,  and  he  uses 
naughty  Avords,  and  pretends  to  be  well  rid  of  her.  She  is  troub- 
led and  astonished  for  a  time ;  then  her  pride  is  touched,  and  she 
won't  mention  his  name.  In  the  end,  of  course,  she  marries  a 
handsome  young  gentleman,  who  is  really  in  love  with  her,  and 
they  are  so  very  happy — oh,  it  is  delightful  to  think  of  it !  and 
then,  a  long  time  after,  the  other  one  comes  home,  and  they  all 
find  out  the  villain — that's  me — but  they  are  all  quite  pleased 
with  the  way  it  has  ended,  and  they  forgive  me.  How  clever 
they  are  in  stories  to  be  able  to  do  that !" 

She  took  a  letter  out  of  her  pocket,  and  furtively  looked  at  it. 


138  THREE    FEATHERS. 

It  bore  a  foreign  postmark.  She  glanced  around  to  see  tliat  no 
one  had  observed  her,  and  concealed  it  again. 

"To  burn  this  one  is  easy.  But  old  Malachi  mightn't  always 
let  me  rummage  his  bag ;  and  a  single  one  getting  into  Wenna's 
hands  would  spoil  the  whole  thing.  Besides,  if  Wenna  did  not 
■\\Tite  out  to  Jamaica  he  would  write  home  to  some  of  his  friends 
— some  of  those  nice,  cautious,  inquiring  clergymen,  no  doubt, 
about  the  Hall — to  let  him  know ;  and  then  there  would  be  a 
pretty  squabble.  I  never  noticed  how  the  villains  in  the  stories 
managed  that;  I  suppose  there  were  no  clever  clergymen  about, 
and  no  ill-tempered  old  postman  like  Malachi  Lean.  And  oh !  I 
should  like  to  see  what  he  says — he  will  make  such  beautiful 
speeches  about  absence  and  trust,  and  all  that ;  and  he  will  throw 
himself  on  her  mercy,  and  he  will  remind  her  of  her  engaged 
ring." 

Mabyn  laughed  to  herself — a  quiet,  triumphant  laugh.  "When- 
ever she  was  very  downhearted  about  her  sister's  affairs,  she  used 
to  look  at  the  gipsy  ring  of  emeralds,  and  repeat  to  herself — 

"Oh,  green's  forsaken, 
And  yellow's  forsworn, 
And  blue's  the  sweetest 
Color  that's  worn!" 

— and  on  this  occasion  she  reflected  that  perhaps,  after  all,  it  was 
scarcely  worth  while  for  her  to  become  a  villain  in  order  to  secure 
a  result  that  had  already  been  ordained  by  Fate. 

"  Mab,"  said  her  father,  coming  out  to  interrupt  her  reflections, 
and  speaking  in  a  peevishly  indolent  voice,  "  where's  Wenna  ?  I 
want  her  to  write  some  letters  and  to  go  over  to  the  Annots'.  Of 
course  your  mother's  ill  again,  and  can't  do  anything." 

"  Can't  I  write  the  letters  ?"  said  Mabyn. 

"  You  ?  you're  only  fit  to  go  capering  about  a  dancing-academy. 
I  want  AVenna." 

"  Well,  I  think  you  might  let  her  have  one  forenoon  to  her- 
self," Mabyn  said,  with  some  sharpness ;  "  she  doesn't  take  many 
holidays.  She's  always  doing  other  people's  Avork,  and  when 
they're  quite  able  to  do  it  for  themselves." 

Mabyn's  father  was  quite  insensible  to  the  sarcasm  ;  he  said,  in 
a  complaining  way — 

"  Yes,  that's  sure  enough ;   she's   always  meddling  in  other 


CONFIDENCES.  139 

people's  affairs,  and  tliey  don't  thank  her  for  it.  And  a  nice 
thing  she's  done  with  those  Annots.  Why,  that  young  Hanna- 
bel  fellow  was  quite  content  to  mind  his  own  bit  of  farm  like  any 
one  else,  until  she  put  it  into  his  head  to  get  a  spring-cart,  and 
drive  all  the  way  down  to  Devonport  with  his  poultry ;  and  now 
she's  led  him  on  so  that  he  buys  up  the  fish,  and  the  poultry  and 
eggs,  and  butter  and  things  from  all  the  folks  about  him,  to  sell 
at  Devonport;  and  of  course  they're  raising  their  prices,  and 
they'll  scarcely  deal  with  you  except  as  a  favor,  they've  got  so 
precious  independent.  And  now  he's  come  to  the  Tregear  farm, 
and  if  Wenna  doesn't  interfere  they'll  be  contracting  with  him 
for  the  whole  summer.  There's  one  blessed  mercy,  when  she 
gets  married  she'll  have  to  stop  that  nonsense,  and  have  to  mind 
her  own  business." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mabyn,  with  some  promptitude,  "and  she  has  been 
left  to  mind  her  own  business  pretty  well  of  late." 

"What's  the  matter  with  you,  Mabyn?"  her  father  carelessly 
asked,  noticing  at  length  the  peculiarity  of  her  tone. 

"  Why,"  she  said,  indignantly,  "  you  and  mother  had  no  right 
to  let  her  go  and  engage  herself  to  that  man.  You  ought  to  have 
interfered.  She's  not  fit  to  act  for  herself — she  let  herself  be 
coaxed  over,  and  you'll  be  sorry  for  it  some  day." 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  child,"  her  father  said,  "  and  don't  talk 
about  things  you  can't  understand.  A  lot  of  experience  yow  have 
had !  If  AVenna  didn't  want  to  marry  him,  she  could  have  said 
so ;  if  she  doesn't  want  to  marry  him  now,  she  has  only  to  say  so. 
What  harm  can  there  be  in  that  ?" 

"  Oh  yes ;  it's  all  very  simple,"  the  girl  said  to  herself,  as  she 
rose  and  went  away ;  "  very  simple  to  say  she  can  do  what  she 
pleases ;  but  she  can't,  and  she  should  never  have  been  allowed  to 
put  herself  in  such  a  position,  for  she  will  find  it  out  afterv,ards 
if  she  doesn't  now.  It  seems  to  me  there  is  nobody  at  all  who 
cares  about  Wenna  except  me ;  and  she  thinks  I  am  a  child,  and 
pays  no  heed  to  me." 

Wenna  came  in ;  Mabyn  heard  her  go  up-stairs  to  her  own  room, 
and  followed  her. 

"  Oh,  Wenna,  who  gave  you  this  beautiful  basket  of  primroses?" 
she  cried,  guessing  instantly  who  had  given  them.  "  It  is  such  a 
pretty  present  to  give  to  any  one !" 

"  Mrs.  Luke's  children  gathered  them,"  Wenna  said,  coldly. 


140  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  Oh,  indeed ;  ■n-licre  did  the  basket  come  from  ?" 

"  Mr.  Trclyon  asked  them  to  gather  me  the  primroses,"  Wenna 
said,  impatiently ;  "  I  suppose  he  got  the  basket." 

"  Then  it  is  liis  present  ?"  Mabyn  cried.  "  Oh,  how  kind  of 
liim  !  And  see,  AVenna — don't  you  see  what  he  has  put  in  among 
the  primroses  ?  Look,  Wenna — it  is  a  bit  of  None-so-j)retty.  Oh, 
Wenna,  that  is  a  message  to  you !" 

"  Mabyn,"  her  sister  said,  with  a  severity  that  was  seldom  in 
her  voice,  "you  will  make  me  vexed  with  you  if  you  talk  such 
nonsense.  He  would  not  dare  to  do  such  a  thing — why,  the  ab- 
surdity of  it !  And  I  am  not  at  all  well  disposed  towards  Mr. 
Trelyon  at  this  moment." 

"  I  don't  see  why  he  shouldn't,"  said  her  sister  humbly,  and 
yet  with  a  little  inadvertent  toss  of  the  head ;  "  every  one  knows 
you  are  pretty  except  yourself,  and  there  can  be  no  harm  in  a 
young  man  telling  you  so.  He  is  not  a  greater  fool  than  any- 
body else.  He  has  got  eyes.  He  knows  that  every  one  is  in  love 
with  you — every  one  that  is  now  in  Eglosilyan,  anyway.  He  is  a 
very  gentlemanly  young  man.  He  is  a  great  friend  to  you.  I 
don't  see  why  you  should  treat  him  so." 

Mabyn  began  to  move  about  the  room,  as  she  generally  did 
when  she  was  a  trifle  excited  and  indignant,  and  inclined  to 
tears. 

"  There  is  no  one  thinks  so  highly  of  you  as  he  does.  He  is 
more  respectful  to  you  than  to  all  the  people  in  the  world.  I 
think  it  is  very  hard  and  unkind  of  you." 

"  But,  Mabyn,  what  have  I  done  ?"  her  sister  said. 

"  You  won't  believe  he  sent  you  that  piece  of  None-so-2irctty. 
You  won't  take  the  least  notice  of  his  friendliness  to  you.  You 
said  you  were  vexed  with  him." 

"  Well,  I  have  reason  to  be  vexed  with  him,"  Wenna  said,  and 
would  willingly  have  left  the  matter  there. 

But  her  sister  was  not  to  be  put  off.  She  coaxed  for  a  few 
minutes,  then  became  petulant,  and  affected  to  be  deeply  hurt ; 
then  assumed  an  air  of  authority,  and  said  that  she  insisted  on 
being  told.  Then  the  whole  truth  came  out.  Mr.  Trelyon  had 
been  lending  to  Mr.  Roscorla  a  sum  of  money  which  he  had  no 
business  to  lend.  Mr.  Trelyon  had  somehow  mixed  her  up  with 
the  matter,  under  the  impression  that  he  was  conferring  a  service 
on  her.     Mr.  Trelyon  had  concealed  the  whole  transaction  from 


CONFIDENCES.  141 

her,  and,  of  course,  Mr.  Roscorla  was  silent  also.  And  on  the  face 
of  it  Mr.  Trelyon  was  responsible  for  Mr.  Roscorla  going  away 
from  his  native  land  to  face  all  manner  of  perils,  discomforts,  and 
anxieties ;  for  without  that  fatal  sum  of  money  he  might  still 
have  been  living  in  peace  and  contentment  up  at  Basset  Cottage. 

"  AVell,  Wenna,"  said  the  younger  sister  candidly,  and  with  a 
resigned  air,  "  I  never  knew  you  so  unreasonable  before.  All  you 
seem  able  to  do  is  to  invent  reasons  for  disliking  Mr.  Trelyon,  and 
I  have  no  doubt  you  used  him  shamefully  when  you  saw  him  this 
forenoon.  You  are  all  love  and  kindness  to  people  who  have  no 
claim  on  you — to  brats  in  cottages  and  old  women — but  you  are 
very  hard  on  people  who  1 —  who  respect  you.  And  then,"  add- 
ed Miss  Mabyn,  drawing  herself  up,  "  if  I  were  to  tell  you  how 
the  story  of  that  money  strikes  me,  would  it  surprise  you  ?  Who 
asked  Mr.  Roscorla  to  have  the  money  and  go  away  ?  Not  Mr. 
Trelyon,  I  am  sure.  "Who  concealed  it  ?  Whose  place  was  it  to 
come  and  tell  you — you  who  are  engaged  to  him  ?  If  it  comes 
to  that,  I'll  tell  you  what  I  believe,  and  that  is  that  Mr.  Roscorla 
went  and  made  use  of  the  regard  that  Harry  Trelyon  has  for  you 
to  get  the  money.     There  1" 

Mabyn  uttered  the  last  words  with  an  air  which  said,  '■^  I  will 
speak  out  this  time,  if  I  die  for  ity  But  the  effect  on  her  sister 
was  strange.  Of  course,  she  expected  Wenna  to  rise  up  indig- 
nantly and  protest  against  her  speaking  of  Mr.  Roscorla  in  such 
a  way.  She  was  ready  to  brave  her  wrath.  She  fully  thought 
they  were  entering  on  the  deadliest  quaiTcl  that  had  ever  occurred 
between  them. 

But  whether  it  was  that  Wenna  was  too  much  grieved  to  care 
what  her  sister  said,  or  whether  it  was  that  these  frank  accusations 
touched  some  secret  consciousness  in  her  own  heart,  the  elder  sis- 
ter remained  strangely  silent,  her  eyes  cast  down.  Mabyn  looked 
at  her,  wondering  why  she  did  not  get  up  in  a  rage :  Wenna  was 
stealthily  crying.  And  then,  of  course,  the  younger  sister's  arms 
were  around  her  in  a  minute,  and  there  was  a  great  deal  of  sooth- 
ing and  tender  phrases ;  and  finally  Mabyn,  not  knowing  other- 
wise how  to  atone  for  her  indiscretion,  pulled  out  Mr.  Roscorla's 
letter,  put  it  in  W\'nna's  hand,  and  went  away. 


142  THREE    FEATHERS. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE    FIRST    MESSAGE    HOME. 

Wenna  "was  glad  to  have  the  letter  at  that  moment.  She  had 
been  distracted  by  all  this  affair  of  the  money ;  she  had  been 
troubled  and  angry — with  whom  she  could  scarcely  tell ;  but  here 
was  something  that  recalled  her  to  a  sense  of  her  duty.  She 
opened  it,  resolved  to  accept  its  counsels  and  commands  with  all 
due  meekness.  For  such  kindness  as  he  might  choose  to  show 
she  would  be  grateful,  and  she  would  go  back  to  her  ordinary 
work  more  composed  and  cheerful,  knowing  that,  whatever  busi- 
ness affairs  Mr.  Roscorla  might  transact,  her  concern  was  only  to 
remain  loyal  to  the  promises  she  had  made,  and  to  the  trust  which 
he  reposed  in  her. 

And  the  letter  was  in  reality  a  kind  and  friendly  letter,  written 
with  a  sort  of  good-humor  that  did  not  wholly  conceal  a  certain 
pathetic  consciousness  of  distance  and  loneliness.  It  gave  her  a 
brief  description  of  the  voyage ;  of  the  look  of  the  place  at  which 
he  landed  ;  of  his  meeting  with  his  friends ;  and  then  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  he  would  have  to  spend  his  time  while  he  remained 
in  the  island. 

"My  head  is  rather  in  a  whirl  as  yet,"  he  wrote,  "and  I  can't 
sit  down  and  look  at  the  simple  facts  of  the  case — that  every  one 
knows  how  brief  and  ordinary  and  commonplace  a  thing  a  voy- 
age from  England  to  the  AVcst  Indies  is ;  and  how,  looking  at  a 
map,  I  should  consider  myself  as  only  having  run  out  here  for  a 
little  trip.  At  present  my  memory  is  full  of  the  long  nights  and 
of  the  early  mornings,  and  of  the  immeasurable  seas  that  we  were 
always  leaving  behind,  so  that  now  I  feel  as  if  England  were  away 
in  some  other  planet  altogether,  that  I  should  never  return  to.  It 
seems  years  since  I  left  you  at  Launceston  station :  when  I  look 
back  to  it  I  look  through  long  days  and  nights  of  water,  and  noth- 
ing but  water,  and  it  seems  as  if  it  must  be  years  and  years  before 
I  could  see  an  English  harbor  again,  all  masts  and  smoke  and 
hurry,  with  posters  upon  the  walls  and  cabs  in  the  streets,  and 


IHE    FIRST    MESSAGE    HOME.  143 

somewhere  or  other  a  railway-station  where  you  know  you  can 
take  your  ticket  for  Cornwall,  and  get  into  your  old  ways  again. 
But  I  am  not  going  to  give  way  to  homesickness ;  indeed,  my 
dear  Wenna,  you  need  not  fear  that,  for,  from  all  I  can  make  out, 
I  shall  have  plenty  to  look  after,  and  quite  enough  to  keep  me 
from  mooning  and  dreaming.  Of  course  I  cannot  tell  you  yet 
how  things  are  likely  to  turn  out,  but  the  people  I  have  seen  this 
morning  are  hopeful ;  and  I  am  inclined  to  be  hopeful  myself, 
perhaps  because  the  voyage  has  agreed  Avitli  me  very  well,  and 
has  wonderfully  improved  my  spirits.  So  I  mean  to  set  to  work 
in  good  earnest,  with  the  assurance  that  you  are  not  indifferent 
to  the  results  of  it ;  and  then  some  day,  when  we  are  both  enjoy- 
ing these,  you  won't  be  sorry  that  I  went  away  from  you  for  a 
time.  Already  I  have  been  speculating  on  all  that  we  might  do 
if  this  venture  turns  out  well,  for  of  course  there  is  no  necessity 
why  you  should  be  mewed  up  in  Eglosilyan  all  your  life,  instead 
of  feeling  the  enjoyment  of  change  of  scene  and  of  interests. 
These  are  castles  in  the  air,  you  will  say,  but  they  naturally  arise 
in  the  mind  when  you  are  in  buoyant  health  and  spirits ;  and  I 
hope,  if  I  return  to  England  in  the  same  mood,  you  will  become 
infected  with  my  confidence,  and  add  some  gayety  to  the  quiet 
serenity  of  your  life." 

Wenna  rather  hurried  over  this  passage ;  the  notion  that  she 
might  be  enabled  to  play  the  part  of  a  fine  lady  by  means  of  the 
money  which  Harry  Trelyon  had  lent  to  her  betrothed  was  not 
grateful  to  her. 

"  I  wish,"  the  letter  continued,  "  that  you  had  been  looking  less 
grave  Avhcn  you  had  your  portrait  taken.  Many  a  time,  on  the 
voyage  out,  I  used  to  fix  my  eyes  on  your  portrait,  and  try  to 
imagine  I  was  looking  at  it  in  my  own  room  at  home,  and  that 
you  were  half  a  mile  or  so  away  from  mc,  down  at  the  inn  in 
the  valley.  But  these  efforts  were  not  successful,  I  must  own  ; 
for  there  was  not  much  of  the  quiet  of  Eglosilyan  around  you 
when  the  men  were  tramping  on  the  deck  overhead,  and  the  wa- 
ter hissing  outside,  and  the  engines  throbbing.  And  when  I  used 
to  take  out  your  photograph  on  deck,  in  some  quiet  corner,  I  used 
to  say  to  myself, '  Now  I  shall  sec  Wenna  just  as  she  is  to-day, 
and  I  shall  know  she  has  gone  in  to  have  a  chat  with  the  miller's 
children ;  or  she  is  reading  out  at  the  edge  of  Black  Cliff ;  or  she 
is  contentedly  sewing  in  her  little  parlor.'     Well,  to  tell  you  the 


144  THREE    FEATHERS. 

truth,  "Wenna,  I  got  vexed  with  your  photograph  ;  I  never  did 
think  it  was  very  good — now  I  consider  it  bad.  ^Miy,  I  think 
of  you  as  I  have  seen  you  running  about  the  cliffs  with  Mabyn, 
or  romping  with  small  children  at  home,  and  I  see  your  face  all 
light  and  laughter,  and  your  tongue  just  a  little  too  ready  to  say 
saucy  things  when  an  old  fogy  like  myself  would  have  liked  you 
to  take  care ;  but  here  it  is  always  the  same  face — sad,  serious, 
and  preoccupied.  What  were  you  thinking  of  when  it  was  tak- 
en ?  I  suppose  some  of  your  proteges  in  the  village  had  got  into 
mischief." 

"  Wenna,  are  you  here  ?"  said  her  father,  opening  the  door  of 
her  room.  "  Why  didn't  Mabyn  tell  me  ?  And  a  nice  thing  you've 
let  us  in  for,  by  getting  young  Annot  to  start  that  business  of  go- 
ing to  Devonport.     He's  gone  to  Tregear  now." 

"  I  know,"  Wenna  said,  calmly. 

"  You  know  ?  And  don't  you  know  what  an  inconvenience  it 
will  be  to  us ;  for  of  course  your  mother  can't  look  after  these 
things,  and  she'll  expect  me  to  go  and  buy  poultry  and  eggs  for 
her.'' 

"Oh  no,"  Wenna  said,  "  all  that  is  arranged.  I  settled  it  both 
with  the  Annots  and  the  Tregear  folks  six  weeks  ago.  We  are  to 
have  whatever  we  want  just  as  hitherto,  and  Elannabel  Annot  will 
take  the  rest." 

"  I  want  you  to  write  some  letters,"  said  Mr.  Rosewarne,  disap- 
pointed of  his  grumble. 

"  Very  well,"  said  AVenna ;  and  she  rose  and  followed  her  fa- 
ther. 

They  were  met  in  the  passage  by  Mabyn. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Wenna  ?" 

"  She  is  going  to  write  some  letters  for  me,"  said  her  father, 
impatient  of  interference.     "  Get  out  of  the  way,  Mab." 

"  Ilave  you  read  that  letter,  Wenna  ?  No,  you  haven't.  A^Tiy, 
father,  don't  you  know  she's  got  a  letter  from  Mr.  Roscorla, 
and  you  haven't  given  her  time  to  read  it?  She  must  go  back 
instantly.  Your  letters  can  wait — or  I'll  write  them.  Come 
along,  Wenna." 

Wenna  laughed,  and  stood  uncertain.  Iler  father  frowned  at 
first,  but  thought  better  of  what  he  was  about  to  say,  and  only  re- 
marked, as  he  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  passed  on — 

"  Some  day  or  other,  my  young  lady,  I  shall  have  to  cuff  your 


THE    FIRST    MESSAGE    HOME.  145 

ears.  Your  temper  is  getting  to  be  just  a  little  too  miicli  for  me, 
and  as  for  tlie  man  who  may  marry  you,  God  lielp  him  !" 

Mabyn  carried  her  sister  back  in  triumph  to  her  own  room, 
went  inside  with  her,  locked  the  door,  and  sat  down  by  the  win- 
dow. 

"  I  shall  wait  until  you  have  finished,"  she  said ;  and  Wenna, 
who  was  a  little  surprised  that  Mabyn  should  have  been  so  anx- 
ious about  the  reading  of  a  letter  from  Mr.  Roscorla,  took  out  the 
document  again,  and  opened  it,  and  continued  her  perusal. 

"  And  now,  Wenna,"  the  letter  ran,  '*  I  must  finish ;  for  there 
are  two  gentlemen  coming  to  call  on  me  directly.  Somehow  I 
feel  as  I  felt  on  sending  you  the  first  letter  I  ever  sent  you — that 
I  have  said  nothing  of  what  I  should  like  to  say.  You  might 
think  me  anxious,  morbid,  unreasonable,  if  I  told  you  all  the 
things  that  have  occupied  my  mind  of  late  with  regard  to  you ; 
and  yet  sometimes  a  little  restlessness  creeps  in  that  I  can't  quite 
get  rid  of.  It  is  through  no  want  of  trust  in  you,  my  dear  Wen- 
na— I  know  your  sincerity  and  high  principle  too  well  for  that. 
To  put  the  matter  bluntly,  I  know  you  wUl  keep  faith  with  me ; 
and  that  when  I  get  back  to  England,  in  good  luck  or  in  ill  luck, 
you  Avill  be  there  to  meet  me,  and  ready  to  share  in  whatever  fate 
fortune  may  have  brought  us  both.  But  sometimes,  to  tell  you 
the  truth,  I  begin  to  think  of  your  isolated  position ;  and  of  the 
possibility  of  your  having  doubts  which  you  can't  express  to  any 
one,  and  which  I,  being  so  far  away  from  you,  cannot  attempt  to 
remove.  I  know  how  the  heart  may  be  troubled  in  absence — 
mistaking  its  own  sensations,  and  fancying  that  what  is  in  reality 
a  longing  to  see  some  one  is  the  beginning  of  some  vague  dissat- 
isfaction with  the  relations  existing  between  you.  Think  of  that, 
dear  Wenna.  If  you  are  troubled  or  doubtful,  put  it  down  to  the 
fact  that  I  am  not  with  you  to  give  you  courage  and  hope.  A 
girl  is  indeed  to  be  pitied  at  such  a  time :  she  hesitates  to  con- 
fess to  herself  that  she  has  doubts ;  and  she  is  ashamed  to  ask 
counsel  from  her  relatives.  Happily,  however,  you  have  multifa- 
rious duties  which  will  in  great  measure  keep  you  from  brooding ; 
and  I  hope  you  will  remember  your  promise  to  give  me  a  full, 
true,  and  particular  account  of  all  that  is  happening  in  Eglosilyan. 
You  can't  tell  how  interesting  the  merest  trifles  will  be  to  me. 
They  will  help  me  to  make  pictures  of  you  and  all  your  surround- 
ings ;  and  alreadv,  at  this  great  distance,  I  seem  to  feel  the  need 

G 


146  THREE    FEATHERS. 

of  some  such  spur  to  the  imagination.  As  I  say,  I  cannot  appeal 
to  your  portrait — there  is  no  life  in  it ;  but  there  is  life  in  my 
mental  portrait  of  you — life  and  happiness,  and  even  the  sound 
of  your  laughing.  Tell  me  all  about  Mabyn,  who,  I  think,  is  rath- 
er jealous  of  me — of  your  mother  and  father,  and  Jennifer,  and 
everybody.  Have  you  any  people  staying  at  the  inn  yet ;  or  only 
chance-comers?  Have  the  Trelyons  returned  ? — and  has  that  wild 
school-boy  succeeded  yet  in  riding  his  horse  over  a  cliS  ?" 

And  so,  with  some  few  affectionate  phrases,  the  letter  ended. 

"  Well  ?"  said  Mabyn,  coming  back  from  the  window. 

"  Yes,  he  is  quite  well,"  Wenna  said,  with  her  eyes  grown  dis- 
tant, as  though  she  were  looking  at  some  of  the  scenes  he  had 
been  describing. 

"  I  did  not  ask  if  he  was  well,"  Mabyn  said.  "  I  asked  what 
you  thought  of  the  letter.  Does  he  say  anything  about  the  bor- 
rowing of  that  money  ?" 

*'  No,  he  does  not." 

*'  Very  well,  then,"  Mabyn  said,  sharply.  "  And  you  blame  INIr. 
Trelyon  for  not  telling  you.  Does  a  gentleman  tell  anybody  when 
he  lends  money  ?  No ;  but  a  gentleman  might  have  told  you  that 
he  had  borrowed  money  from  a  friend  of  yours,  who  lent  it  be- 
cause of  you.  But  there's  nothing  of  that  in  the  letter — of  course 
not — only  appeals  to  high  moral  principles,  I  suppose,  and  a  sort 
of  going  down  on  his  knees  to  you  that  you  mayn't  withdi-aw 
from  a  bargain  he  swindled  you  into — " 

"  Mabyn,  I  won't  hear  another  word !  This  is  really  most  in- 
solent. You  may  say  of  me  what  you  please ;  but  it  is  most  cruel 
— it  is  most  unworthy  of  you,  Mabyn — to  say  such  things  of  any 
one  who  cannot  defend  himself.  And  I  won't  listen  to  them, 
Mabyn — let  me  say  that  once  and  for  all." 

"  Very  well,  "Wenna,"  the  youngest  sister  said,  with  two  big 
tears  rising  to  her  eyes  as  she  rose  and  went  to  the  door.  "  You 
can  quarrel  with  me  if  you  please — but  I've  told  you  the  truth — 
and  there's  those  who  love  you  too  well  to  see  you  made  unhap- 
py ;  but  I  suppose  I  am  to  say  nothing  more — " 

And  she  went ;  and  Wenna  sat  down  by  the  window,  thinking, 
with  a  sigh,  that  it  seemed  her  fate  to  make  everybody  miserable. 
She  sat  there  for  a  long  time  with  the  letter  in  her  hand ;  and 
sometimes  she  looked  at  it;  but  did  not  care  to  read  it  over 
again.     The  knowledge  that  she  had  it  was  something  of  a  relief ; 


tintagkl's  walls.  147 

she  would  use  it  as  a  talisman  to  dispel  doubts  and  cares  when 
these  came  into  her  mind ;  but  she  would  wait  until  the  necessity 
arose.  She  had  one  long  and  argumentative  letter  to  which  she 
in  secret  resorted  whenever  she  wished  to  have  the  assurance  that 
her  acceptance  of  Mr.  Roscorla  had  been  a  right  thing  to  do ; 
here  was  a  letter  which  would  exorcise  all  anxious  surmises  as  to 
the  future  which  might  creep  in  upon  her  during  the  wakeful 
hours  of  the  night.  She  would  put  them  both  carefully  into  her 
drawer,  even  as  she  put  a  bit  of  camphor  there  to  keep  away 
moths. 

So  she  rose,  with  saddened  eyes,  and  yet  with  something  of  a 
lighter  heart ;  and  in  passing  by  the  side-table  she  stopped — per- 
haps by  inadvertence — to  look  at  the  basket  of  primroses  which 
Harry  Trelyon  had  sent  her.  She  seemed  surprised.  Apparent- 
ly missing  something,  she  looked  around  and  on  the  floor,  to  see 
that  it  had  not  fallen ;  and  then  she  said  to  herself,  "  I  suppose 
Mabyn  has  taken  it  for  her  hair." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

tintagel's   walls. 


"What  was  the  matter  with  Harry  Trelyon  ?  His  mother  could 
not  make  out,  and  there  never  had  been  much  confidence  between 
them,  so  that  she  did  not  care  to  ask.  But  she  watched ;  and  she 
saw  that  he  had,  for  the  time  at  least,  forsaken  his  accustomed 
haunts  and  ways,  and  become  gloomy,  silent,  and  self-possessed. 
Dick  was  left  neglected  in  the  stables;  you  no  longer  heard  his 
rapid  clatter  along  the  highway,  with  the  not  over-melodious  voice 
of  his  master  singing  "  The  Men  of  Merry,  Merry  England  "  or 
"The  Young  Chevalier,"  The  long  and  slender  fishing-rod  re- 
mained on  the  pegs  in  the  hall,  although  you  could  hear  the  flop 
of  the  small  burn-trout  of  an  evening  when  the  flies  were  thick 
over  the  stream.  The  dogs  were  deprived  of  their  accustomed 
runs ;  the  horses  had  to  be  taken  out  for  exercise  by  the  groom ; 
and  the  various  and  innumerable  animals  about  the  place  missed 
their  doses  of  alternate  petting  and  teasing,  all  because  Master 
Harry  had  chosen  to  shut  himself  up  in  his  study. 


148  THREE    FEATHERS. 

The  mother  of  the  young  man  very  soon  discovered  that  her 
son  was  not  devoting  his  hours  of  seclusion  in  that  extraordinary 
museum  of  natural  history  to  making  trout-flies,  stuffing  birds, 
and  arranging  jiinncd  butterflies  in  cases,  as  •\vas  his  custom. 
These  were  not  the  occupations  which  now  kept  Trelyon  up  half 
the  night.  "When  she  went  in  of  a  morning,  before  he  was  up, 
she  found  that  he  had  been  covering  whole  sheets  of  paper  with 
careful  copying  out  of  passages  taken  at  random  from  the  vol- 
umes beside  him.  A  Latin  Grammar  was  ordinarily  on  the  table 
— a  book  which  the  young  gentleman  had  brought  back  from 
school  pretty  well  free  from  thumb-marks.  Occasionally  a  fenc- 
ing-foil lay  among  these  evidences  of  study  ;  while  the  small 
aquaria,  the  cases  of  stuffed  animals  with  fancy  backgrounds,  and 
the  numerous  birdcages  had  been  thrust  aside  to  give  fair  elbow- 
room,  "  Perhaps,"  said  Mrs.  Trelyon  to  herself,  with  much  satis- 
faction— "  perhaps,  after  all,  that  good  little  girl  has  given  him  a 
hint  about  Parliament,  and  he  is  preparing  himself." 

A  few  days  of  this  seclusion,  however,  began  to  make  the 
mother  anxious ;  and  so,  one  morning,  she  went  into  his  room. 
He  hastily  turned  over  the  sheet  of  paper  on  which  he  had  been 
writing ;  then  he  looked  up,  not  too  well  pleased. 

*'  Harry,  why  do  you  stay  indoors  on  such  a  beautiful  morn- 
ing ?     It  is  quite  like  summer." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  he  said  indifferently ;  "  I  suppose  we  shall 
soon  have  a  batch  of  parsons  here :  summer  always  brings  them. 
They  come  out  with  the  hot  weather — like  bluebottles." 

Mrs.  Trelyon  was  disappointed ;  she  thought  Wenna  Rosewarne 
had  cui'cd  him  of  his  insane  dislike  to  clergymen — indeed,  for 
many  a  day  gone  by  he  had  kept  respectfully  silent  on  the  subject. 

"  But  we  shall  not  ask  them  to  come  if  you'd  rather  not,"  she 
said,  wishing  to  do  all  she  could  to  encourage  the  reformation  of 
his  ways.  "  I  think  Mr.  Barnes  promised  to  visit  us  early  in  May ; 
but  he  is  only  one." 

"  And  one  is  worse  than  a  dozen.  When  there's  a  lot  you  can 
leave  'cm  to  fight  it  out  among  themselves.  But  one — to  have 
one  stalking  about  an  empty  house,  like  a  ghost  dipped  in  ink ! 
Why  can't  you  ask  anybody  but  clergymen,  mother  ?  There  are 
whole  lots  of  people  would  like  to  run  down  to  Cornwall  for  a 
fortnight  before  getting  into  the  thick  of  the  season  —  there's 
the  Poraeroy  girls  as  good  as  offered  to  come." 


tintagel's  walls.  149 

"  But  they  can't  come  by  tliemselves,"  Mrs.  Trelyon  said,  with 
a  feeble  protest. 

"  Ob  yes,  tbey  can ;  they're  ugly  enougb  to  be  safe  anywhere. 
And  why  don't  you  get  Juliott  up  ?  She'll  be  glad  to  get  away 
from  that  old  curmudgeon  for  a  week.  And  you  ought  to  ask 
the  Trewhellas,  mother  and  daughter,  to  dinner — that  old  fellow 
is  not  half  a  bad  sort  of  fellow,  although  he's  a  clergyman." 

"  Harry,"  said  his  mother,  interrupting  him,  "  I'll  fill  the 
house,  if  that  will  please  you ;  and  you  shall  ask  whomsoever 
you  please." 

"  All  right,"  said  he  ;  "  the  place  wants  waking  up." 

"  And  then,"  said  the  mother,  wishing  to  be  still  more  gracious, 
"you  might  ask  Miss  Eosewarne  to  dine  with  us — she  might 
come  well  enough,  although  Mr.  Roscorla  is  not  here." 

A  sort  of  gloom  fell  over  the  young  man's  face  again. 

"  I  can't  ask  her ;  you  may  if  you  like." 

Mrs.  Trelyon  stared.  "  What's  the  matter,  Harry  ?  Have  you 
and  she  quarrelled  ?  WTiy,  I  was  going  to  ask  you,  if  you  were 
down  in  the  village  to-day,  to  say  that  I  should  like  to  see  her." 

"  And  how  could  I  take  such  a  message  ?"  the  young  man  said, 
rather  warmly.  "  I  don't  see  why  the  girl  should  be  ordered  up 
to  see  you  as  if  you  were  conferring  a  favor  on  her  by  joining  in 
this  scheme.  She's  very  hard-worked ;  you  have  got  plenty  of 
time ;  you  ought  to  call  on  her,  and  study  her  convenience,  in- 
stead of  making  her  trot  all  the  way  up  here  whenever  you  want 
to  talk  to  her." 

The  pale  and  gentle  woman  was  anxious  not  to  give  way  to 
petulance  just  then. 

"  Well,  you  are  quite  right,  Harry ;  it  was  thoughtless  of  me. 
I  should  like  to  go  down  and  see  her  this  morning ;  but  I  have 
sent  Jakes  over  to  the  blacksmith's,  and  I  am  afraid  of  that  new 
lad." 

"  Oh,  I  will  drive  you  down  to  the  inn.  I  suppose  among 
them  they  can  put  the  horses  to  the  wagonette,"  the  young  man 
said ;  and  then  Mrs.  Trelyon  went  off  to  get  ready. 

It  was  a  beautiful,  fresh  morning ;  the  far-off  line  of  the  sea 
still  and  blue ;  the  sunlight  lighting  up  the  wonderful  masses  of 
primroses  along  the  tall  banks ;  the  air  sweet  with  the  resinous 
odor  of  the  gorse.  Mrs.  Trelyon  looked  with  a  gentle  and  child- 
like pleasure  on  all  these  things,  and  was  fairly  inclined  to  be 


150  THREE    FEATHERS. 

very  friendly  with  the  young  gentleman  beside  licr.  But  lie  was 
more  than  ordinarily  silent  and  morose. 

He  spoke  scarcely  a  word  to  her  as  the  carriage  rolled  along 
the  silent  highways.  He  drove  rapidly  and  carelessly  down  the 
steep  thoroughfare  of  Eglosilyan,  although  there  Avere  plenty  of 
loose  stones  about.  Then  he  pulled  sharply  up  in  front  of  the 
inn  ;  and  George  Rosewarne  appeared. 

"  Mr.  Rosewarne,  let  me  introduce  you  to  my  mother.  She 
wants  to  see  Miss  Wenna  for  a  few  moments,  if  she  is  not  en- 
gaged." 

Mr,  Rosewarne  took  off  his  cap,  assisted  Mrs.  Trelyon  to  alight, 
and  then  showed  her  the  way  into  the  house. 

"  Won't  you  come  in,  Harry  ?"  his  mother  said. 

"  No." 

A  man  had  come  out  to  the  horses'  heads. 

"  You  leave  'em  alone,"  said  the  young  gentleman.  *'  I  sha'n't 
get  down." 

Mabyn  came  out,  her  bright  young  face  full  of  pleasure. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mabyn  ?"  he  said,  coldly,  and  without  offer- 
ing to  shake  hands. 

"  Won't  you  come  in  for  a  minute  ?"  she  said,  rather  surprised. 

"  No,  thank  you.  Don't  you  stay  out  in  the  cold ;  you've  got 
nothing  round  your  neck." 

Mabyn  went  away  without  saying  a  word,  but  thinking  that 
the  coolness  of  the  air  was  much  less  apparent  than  that  of  his 
manner  and  speech. 

Being  at  length  left  to  himself,  he  turned  his  attention  to  the 
horses  before  him,  and  eventually,  to  pass  the  time,  took  out  his 
pocket-handkerchief  and  began  to  polish  the  silver  on  the  handle 
of  the  whip.  He  was  disturbed  in  this  peaceful  occupation  by  a 
very  timid  voice,  Avhich  said,  "  Mr.  Trelyon." 

He  turned  round  and  found  that  Wenna's  wistful  face  was 
looking  up  to  him,  with  a  look  in  it  partly  of  friendly  gladness, 
and  partly  of  anxiety  and  entreaty. 

"  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  with  her  eyes  cast  down,  "  I  think 
you  are  offended  wdth  me.  I  am  very  sorry.  I  beg  your  for- 
giveness." 

The  reins  were  fastened  up  in  a  minute,  and  he  was  down  in 
the  road  beside  her. 

"  Now,  look  here,  Wenna,"  he  said.     "  What  could  you  mean 


tintagel's  walls.  151 

by  treating  me  so  unfairly  ?  I  don't  mean  in  being  vexed  with 
me;  but  in  shunting  me  off,  as  it  were,  instead  of  having  it  out 
at  once.     I  don't  think  it  was  fair." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  she  said.  "  I  think  I  was  very  wrong ;  but 
you  don't  know  what  a  girl  feels  about  such  things.  Will  you 
come  into  the  inn  ?" 

"  And  leave  my  horses  ?  No,"  he  said,  good-naturedly.  "  But 
as  soon  as  I  get  that  fellow  out,  I  will ;  so  you  go  in  at  once,  and 
I'll  follow  you  directly.  And  mind,  Wenna,  don't  you  be  so  silly 
again,  or  you  and  I  may  have  a  real  quarrel.  And  I  know  that 
would  break  your  heart." 

The  old  pleased  smile  lit  up  her  face  again  as  she  turned  and 
went  indoors ;  he,  meanwhile,  proceeded  to  summon  an  hostler  by 
shouting  his  name  at  the  pitch  of  his  voice. 

The  small  party  of  women  assembled  in  the  parlor  were  a  trifle 
embarrassed :  it  was  the  first  time  that  the  great  lady  of  the  neigh- 
borhood had  honored  the  inn  with  a  visit.  She  herself  was  merely 
quiet,  gentle,  and  pleased ;  but  Mrs.  Rosewarne,  with  her  fine  eyes 
and  sensitive  face  lit  up  and  quickened  by  the  novel  excitement, 
was  all  anxiety  to  amuse  and  interest  and  propitiate  her  distin- 
guished guest.  Mabyn,  too,  was  rather  shy  and  embarrassed ;  she 
said  things  hastily,  and  then  seemed  afraid  of  her  interference. 
Wenna  was  scarcely  at  her  ease,  because  she  saw  that  her  mother 
and  sister  were  not ;  and  she  was  very  anxious,  moreover,  that 
these  two  should  think  well  of  Mrs.  Trelyon  and  be  disposed  to 
like  her. 

The  sudden  appearance  of  a  man,  with  a  man's  rough  ways  and 
loud  voice,  seemed  to  shake  these  feminine  elements  better  to- 
gether, and  to  clear  the  air  of  timid  apprehensions  and  cautions. 
Ilarry  Trelyon  came  into  the  room  with  quite  a  marked  freshness 
and  good-nature  on  his  face.  His  mother  was  surprised :  what 
had  completely  changed  his  manner  in  a  couple  of  minutes  ? 

"  How  are  you,  Mrs.  Rosewarne  ?"  he  cried,  in  his  off-hand 
fashion.  "You  oughtn't  to  be  indoors  on  such  a  morning,  or 
we'll  never  get  you  well,  you  know ;  and  the  doctor  will  be  send- 
ing you  to  Penzance  or  Devonport  for  a  change. — Well,  Mabyn, 
have  you  convinced  anybody  yet  that  your  farm-laborers  with 
their  twelve  shillings  a  week  are  better  off  than  the  slate-workers 
with  their  eighteen  ?  You'd  better  take  your  sister's  opinion  on 
that  point,  and  don't  squabble  with  me. — Mother,  what's  the  use 


152  THREE    FEATHERS. 

of  sitting  here  ?  You  bring  Miss  Wenna  with  you  into  the  wag- 
onette, and  talk  to  her  there  about  all  your  business  affairs,  and 
I'll  take  you  for  a  drive.  Come  along !  And,  of  course,  I  want 
somebody  with  me :  will  you  come,  Mrs.  Rosewarne,  or  will  Ma- 
byn?  You  can't? — then  Mabyn  must. — Go  along,  Mabyn,  and 
put  your  best  hat  on,  and  make  yourself  uncommonly  smart,  and 
you  shall  be  allowed  to  sit  next  the  driver — that's  me  !" 

And  indeed  he  bundled  the  whole  of  them  about  until  they 
were  seated  in  the  wagonette  just  as  he  had  indicated ;  and  away 
they  went  from  the  inn-door. 

"And  you  think  you  are  coming  back  in  half  an  hour?"  he 
said  to  his  companion,  who  was  very  pleased  and  very  proud  to 
occupy  such  a  place.  "  Oh  no,  you're  not.  You're  a  young  and 
simple  thing,  Mabyn.  These  two  behind  us  will  go  on  talking 
now  for  any  time  about  yards  of  calico  and  crotchet-needles  and 
twopenny  subscriptions;  while  you  and  I,  don't  you  see,  are 
quietly  driving  them  over  to  Tintaorcl — " 

"  Oh,  Mr.  frelyon  !"  said  Mabyn.' 

"  You  keep  quiet.  That  isn't  the  half  of  what's  going  to  be- 
fall you.  I  shall  put  up  the  horses  at  the  inn,  and  I  shall  take 
you  all  down  to  the  beach  for  a  scramble  to  improve  your  appe- 
tite ;  and  at  the  said  inn  you  shall  have  luncheon  with  me,  if 
you're  all  very  good  and  behave  yourselves.  Then  we  shall  drive 
back  just  when  we  particularly  please.  Do  you  like  the  pict- 
ure ?" 

"  It  is  delightful — oh,  I  am  sure  "VVenna  will  enjoy  it !"  Mabyn 
said.  "  But  don't  you  think,  Mr.  Trelyon,  that  you  might  ask 
her  to  sit  here?  One  sees  better  here  than  sitting  sideways  in 
a  wagonette." 

"  They  have  their  business  affairs  to  settle." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mabyn,  petulantly,  "  that  is  what  every  one  says ; 
nobody  expects  Wenna  ever  to  have  a  moment's  enjoyment  to 
herself !  Oh !  here  is  old  Uncle  Cornish — he's  a  great  friend  of 
Wenna's — he  will  be  dreadfully  hurt  if  she  passes  him  without 
saying  a  word." 

"  Then  we  must  pull  up  and  address  Uncle  Cornish.  I  believe 
he  used  to  be  the  most  thieving  old  ruffian  of  a  poacher  in  this 
county." 

Tliere  was  a  hale  old  man,  of  seventy  or  so,  seated  on  a  low 
wall  in  front  of  one  of  the  gardens;  his  face  shaded  from  the 


tintagel's  walls.  153 

sunlight  by  a  broad  hat;  his  lean  gray  hands  employed  in  buck- 
ling up  the  leathern  leggings  that  encased  his  spare  calves.  He 
got  up  when  the  horses  stopped,  and  looked  in  rather  a  dazed 
fashion  at  the  carriage. 

"  How  do  you  do  this  morning,  Mr.  Cornish  ?"  Wenna  said. 

"  Why,  now,  to  be  sure !"  the  old  man  said,  as  if  reproaching 
his  own  imperfect  vision.  '*  'Tis  a  fine  marnin.  Miss  Wenna,  and 
yu  be  agwoin  for  a  drive." 

"  And  how  is  your  daughter-in-law,  Mr.  Cornish  ?  Has  she  sold 
the  pig  yet  ?" 

"  Naw,  she  hasn't  sold  the  peg.  If  yii  be  agwoin  thrii  Trevalga, 
Miss  Wenna,  just  yii  stop  and  have  a  look  at  that  peg ;  yii'll  be 
mazed  to  see  en ;  'tis  many  a  year  agone  sence  there  has  been 
such  a  peg  by  me.  And  perhaps  yii'd  take  the  laste  bit  o'  re- 
frashment.  Miss  Wenna,  as  yii  go  by ;  Jane  would  get  yu  a  coop 
o'  tay  to  once." 

*'  Thank  you,  Mr.  Cornish,  I'll  look  in  and  see  the  pig  some 
other  time ;  to-day  we  sha'n't  be  going  as  far  as  Trevalga." 

"  Oh,  won't  you  ?"  said  Master  Harry,  in  a  low  voice,  as  he 
drove  on.  "  You'll  be  in  Trevalga  before  you  know  where  you 
are." 

Which  was  literally  the  case.  Wenna  was  so  much  engaged 
in  her  talk  with  Mrs.  Trelyon  that  she  did  not  notice  how  far 
away  they  were  getting  from  Eglosilyan.  But  Mabyn  and  her 
companion  knew.  They  were  now  on  the  high  uplands  by  the 
coast,  driving  between  the  beautiful  banks  which  were  starred 
with  primroses  and  stitchwort  and  red  deadnettle,  and  a  dozen 
other  bright  and  tender-hued  firstlings  of  the  year.  The  sun  was 
warm  on  the  hedges  and  the  fields,  but  a  cool  breeze  blew  about 
these  lofty  heights,  and  stirred  Mabyn's  splendid  masses  of  hair 
as  they  drove  rapidly  along.  Far  over  on  their  right,  beyond  the 
majestic  wall  of  cliff,  lay  the  great  blue  plain  of  the  sea;  and 
there  stood  the  bold  brown  masses  of  the  Sisters  Rocks,  with  a 
circle  of  white  foam  around  their  base.  As  they  looked  down 
into  the  south,  the  white  light  was  so  fierce  that  they  could  but 
faintly  discern  objects  through  it ;  but  here  and  there  they  caught 
a  glimpse  of  a  square  church-tower,  or  of  a  few  rude  cottages 
clustered  on  the  high  plain,  and  these  seemed  to  be  of  a  trans- 
parent gray  in  the  blinding  glare  of  the  sun. 

Then  suddenly  in  front  of  them  they  found  a  deep  chasm,  with 

G2 


154  THREE    FEATHERS. 

the  wbite  road  leading  down  into  its  cool  shadows.  There  was 
the  channel  of  a  stream,  with  the  rocks  looking  purple  amid  the 
gray  bushes ;  and  here  were  rich  meadows,  with  cattle  standing 
deep  in  the  grass  and  the  daisies ;  and  over  there,  on  the  other 
side,  a  strip  of  forest,  with  the  sunlight  shining  along  one  side  of 
the  tall  and  dark  green  pines.  As  they  drove  down  into  this 
place,  which  is  called  the  Rocky  Valley,  a  magpie  rose  from  one 
of  the  fields  and  flew  up  into  the  firs. 

"  That  is  sorrow,"  said  Mabyn. 

Another  one  rose  and  flew  up  to  the  same  spot. 

"  And  that  is  joy,"  she  said,  with  her  face  brightening. 

"  Oh,  but  I  saw  another  as  we  came  to  the  brow  of  the  hill,  and 
that  means  a  marriage  !"  her  companion  remarked  to  her. 

"  Oh  no  !"  she  said,  quite  eagerly.  "  I  am  sure  there  was  no 
third  one.  I  am  certain  there  were  only  two.  I  am  quite  posi- 
tive we  only  saw  two." 

"But  why  should  you  be  so  anxious?"  Trelyon  said.  "You 
know  you  ought  to  be  looking  forward  to  a  marriage,  and  that  is 
always  a  happy  thing.     Are  you  envious,  Mabyn  ?" 

The  girl  was  silent  for  a  moment  or  two.  Then  she  said,  with 
a  sudden  bitterness  in  her  tone — 

"  Isn't  it  a  fearful  thing  to  have  to  be  civil  to  people  whom  you 
hate?  Isn't  it? — when  they  come  and  establish  a  claim  on  you 
through  some  one  you  care  for.  You  look  at  them — yes,  you 
can  look  at  them — and  you've  got  to  see  them  kiss  some  one  that 
you  love ;  and  you  wonder  she  doesn't  rush  away  for  a  bit  of 
caustic  and  cauterize  the  place,  as  you  do  when  a  mad  dog  bites 
you." 

"  Mabyn,"  said  the  young  man  beside  her,  "  you  are  a  most  un- 
christian sort  of  person  this  morning.  "Who  is  it  whom  you  hate 
in  such  a  fashion  ?  Will  you  take  the  reins  while  I  walk  up  the 
hill  ?" 

Mabyn's  little  burst  of  passion  still  burned  in  her  cheeks,  and 
gave  a  proud  and  angry  look  to  her  mouth ;  but  she  took  the 
reins  all  the  same,  and  her  companion  leaped  to  the  ground.  The 
banks  on  each  side  of  the  road  going  up  this  hill  were  tall  and 
steep ;  here  and  there  great  masses  of  wild  flowers  Avere  scattered 
among  the  grass  and  the  gorse.  From  time  to  time  he  stooped 
and  picked  up  a  handful ;  until,  when  they  had  got  up  to  the 
high  and  level  country  again,  he  had  brought  together  a  very 


tintagel's  walls.  155 

pretty  bouquet  of  wild  blossoms.  When  be  got  into  bis  seat  and 
took  the  reins  again,  he  carelessly  gave  the  bouquet  to  Mabyn. 

"  Oh,  how  pretty !"  she  said ;  and  then  she  turned  around. 
"  Wenna,  are  you  very  much  engaged  ?  Look  at  the  pretty  bou- 
quet Mr.  Trelyon  has  gathered  for  you." 

Wenna's  quiet  face  flushed  with  pleasure  when  she  took  the 
flowers ;  and  Mrs.  Trelyon  looked  pleased,  and  said  they  were 
very  pretty.  She  evidently  thought  that  her  son  was  greatly  im- 
proved in  his  manners  when  he  condescended  to  gather  flowers 
to  present  to  a  girl.  Nay,  was  he  not  at  this  moment  devoting  a 
whole  forenoon  of  his  precious  time  to  the  unaccustomed  task  of 
taking  ladies  for  a  drive  ?  Mrs.  Trelyon  regarded  Wenna  with  a 
friendly  look,  and  began  to  take  a  greater  liking  than  ever  to 
that  sensitive  and  expressive  face,  and  to  the  quiet  and  earnest 
eyes. 

"  But,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  said  Wenna,  looking  aroimd,  "  hadn't  we 
better  turn  ?     We  shall  be  at  Trevenna  directly." 

"  Yes,  you  are  quite  right,"  said  Master  Harry ;  "  you  will  be 
at  Trevenna  directly,  and  you  are  likely  to  be  there  for  some  time. 
For  Mabyn  and  I  have  resolved  to  have  luncheon  there ;  and  we 
are  going  down  to  Tintagel ;  and  we  shall  most  likely  climb  to 
King  Arthur's  Castle.     Have  you  any  objection  ?" 

Wenna  had  none.  The  drive  through  the  cool  and  bright  day 
had  braced  up  her  spirits.  She  was  glad  to  know  that  everything 
looked  promising  about  this  scheme  of  hers.  So  she  willingly 
surrendered  herself  to  the  holiday;  and  in  due  time  they  drove 
into  the  odd  and  remote  little  village,  and  pulled  up  in  front  of 
the  inn. 

So  soon  as  the  hostler  had  come  to  the  horses'  heads,  the  young 
gentleman  who  had  been  driving  jumped  down  and  assisted  his 
three  companions  to  alight ;  then  he  led  the  way  into  the  inn. 
In  the  doorway  stood  a  stranger — probably  a  commercial  traveller 
— who,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  his  legs  apart,  and  a  cigar 
in  his  mouth,  had  been  visiting  those  three  ladies  with  a  very 
hearty  stare  as  they  got  out  of  the  carriage.  Moreover,  when 
they  came  to  the  doorway  he  did  not  budge  an  inch,  nor  did  he 
take  his  cigar  from  his  mouth ;  and  so,  as  it  had  never  been  Mr. 
Trelyon's  fashion  to  sidle  past  any  one,  that  young  gentleman 
made  straight  for  the  middle  of  the  passage,  keeping  his  shoulders 
very  square.     The  consequence  was  a  collision.     The  impertur- 


156  THREK    FEATHERS. 

bable  person  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets  was  sent  staggering 
against  the  Avail,  while  his  cigar  dropped  on  the  stone. 

"  What  the  devil —  ?"  he  was  beginning  to  say,  when  Trelyon 
got  the  three  women  past  him  and  into  the  small  parlor ;  then  he 
went  back. 

"Did  you  wish  to  speak  to  me,  sir?  No,  you  didn't — I  per- 
ceive you  are  a  prudent  person.  Next  time  ladies  pass  you 
you'd  better  take  your  cigar  out  of  your  mouth,  or  somebody'll 
destroy  that  two  pennyworth  of  tobacco  for  you.    Good-morning." 

Then  he  returned  to  the  little  parlor,  to  which  a  waitress  had 
been  summoned. 

"  Now,  Jinny,  pull  yourself  together  and  let's  have  something 
nice  for  luncheon — in  an  hour's  time,  sharp — you  will,  won't  you  ? 
And  how  about  that  Sillery  with  the  blue  star — not  the  stufi  with 
the  gold  head  that  some  abandoned  ruffian  in  Plymouth  brews  in 
his  back  garden.     Well,  now,  can't  you  speak  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  bewildered  maid. 

"That's  a  good  thing — a  very  good  thing,"  said  he,  putting 
the  shawls  together  on  a  sofa.  "  Don't  you  forget  liow  to  speak 
until  you  get  married.  And  don't  let  anybody  come  into  this 
room.  And  you  can  let  my  man  have  his  dinner  and  a  pint  of 
beer  —  oh!  I  forgot,  I'm  my  own  man  this  morning,  so  you 
needn't  go  asking  for  him.  Now,  will  you  remember  all  these 
things  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  but  what  would  you  like  for  luncheon  ?" 

"  My  good  girl,  we  should  like  a  thousand  things  for  luncheon 
such  as  Tintagel  never  saw  ;  but  what  you've  got  to  do  is  to  give 
us  the  nicest  things  you've  got ;  do  you  sec  ?  I  leave  it  entirely 
in  your  hands.     Come  along,  young  people  !" 

And  so  lie  bundled  his  charges  out  again  into  the  main  street 
of  the  village ;  and  somehow  it  happened  that  Mabyn  addressed 
a  timid  remark  to  Mrs.  Trelyon,  and  that  Mrs.  Trelyon,  in  answer- 
ing it,  stopped  for  a  moment ;  so  that  Master  Ilarry  was  sent  to 
Wenna's  side,  and  these  two  led  the  way  down  tlie  wide  thorough- 
fare. There  were  few  people  visible  in  the  old-fashioned  place ; 
here  and  there  an  aged  crone  came  out  to  the  door  of  one  of  the 
rude  stone  cottages  to  look  at  the  strangers.  Overhead  the  sky 
was  veiled  with  a  thin  fleece  of  white  cloud ;  but  the  light  was 
intense  for  all  that ;  and,  indeed,  the  colors  of  the  objects  around 
seemed  all  the  more  clear  and  marked. 


TINTAGEl's    "WALLS.  157 

"  Well,  Miss  Wenna,"  said  the  young  man,  gayly,  "  how  long 
are  we  to  remain  good  friends  ?  What  is  the.  next  fault  you  will 
have  to  find  with  me  ?  Or  have  you  discovered  something  wrong 
already  ?" 

"  Oh  no  !"  she  said,  with  a  quiet  smile,  "  I  am  very  good  friends 
with  you  this  morning.  You  have  pleased  your  mother  very  much 
by  bringing  her  for  this  drive." 

"  Oh,  nonsense !"  he  said.  "  She  might  have  as  many  drives 
as  she  chose ;  but  presently  you'll  find  a  lot  o'  those  parsons  back 
at  the  house,  and  she'll  take  to  her  white  gowns  again,  and  the 
playing  of  the  organ  all  the  day  long,  and  all  that  sham  stuff.  I 
tell  you  what  it  is :  she  never  seems  alive — she  never  seems  to- 
take  any  interest  in  anything — unless  you're  with  her.  Now  you 
will  see  how  the  novelty  of  this  luncheon -party  in  an  inn  will 
amuse  her ;  but  do  you  think  she  would  care  for  it  if  she  and  I 
were  here  alone  ?" 

"  Perhaps  you  never  tried,"  Miss  Wenna  said,  gently. 

"Perhaps  I  knew  she  wouldn't  come.  However,  don't  let's 
have  a  fight.     I  mean  to  be  very  civil  to  you  to-day — I  do,  really." 

"  I  am  so  much  obliged  to  you,"  she  said,  meekly.  "But  pray 
don't  give  yourself  unnecessary  trouble." 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  "  I'd  always  be  civil  to  you  if  you  would  treat 
me  decently.  But  you  say  far  more  rude  things  than  I  do — in 
that  soft  way,  you  know,  that  looks  as  if  it  were  all  silk  and  hon- 
ey. I  do  think  you've  awfully  little  consideration  for  human 
failings.  If  one  goes  wrong  in  the  least  thing — even  in  one's 
spelling — you  say  something  that  sounds  as  pleasant  as  possible, 
and  all  the  same  it  transfixes  you  just  as  you  stick  a  pin  through 
a  beetle.  You  are  very  hard,  you  are — I  mean  with  those  who 
would  like  to  be  friends  with  you.  When  it's  mere  strangers, 
and  cottagers,  and  people  of  that  sort,  who  don't  care  a  brass 
farthing  about  you,  then  I  believe  you're  all  gentleness  and  kind- 
ness ;  but  to  your  real  friends — the  edge  of  a  saw  is  smooth  com- 
pared to  you." 

"  Am  I  so  very  harsh  to  my  friends  ?"  the  young  lady  said  in 
a  resigned  way. 

"Oh,  well!"  he  said,  with  some  compunction,  "I  don't  quite 
say  that ;  but  you  could  be  much  more  pleasant  if  you  liked,  and 
a  little  more  charitable  to  their  faults.  You  know  there  arc  some 
who  would  give  a  great  deal  to  win  your  approval ;  and  perhaps 


168  THREE    FEATHERS. 

when  you  find  fault  thoy  are  so  disappointed  that  they  think  your 
words  are  sharper  tlian  you  mean  ;  and  sometimes  they  think  you 
might  give  them  credit  for  trying  to  please  you,  at  least." 

"  And  who  are  these  persons  ?"  Wenna  asked,  with  another 
smile  stealing  over  her  face. 

"  Oh !"  said  he,  rather  shamefacedly,  "  there's  no  need  to  ex- 
plain anything  to  you.  You  always  see  it  before  one  need  put  it 
in  words." 

Well,  perhaps  it  was  in  his  manner,  or  in  the  tone  of  his  voice, 
that  there  was  something  which  seemed  at  this  moment  to  touch 
her  deeply ;  for  she  half  turned,  and  looked  up  at  his  face  with 
her  honest  and  earnest  eyes,  and  said  to  him  kindly — 

"  Yes,  I  do  know  without  your  telling  me ;  and  it  makes  me 
happy  to  hear  you  talk  so ;  and  if  I  am  unjust  to  you,  you  must 
not  think  it  intentional.  And  I  shall  try  not  to  be  so  in  the  fut- 
ure." 

Mrs.  Trelyon  was  regarding  with  a  kindly  look  the  two  young 
people  walking  in  front  of  her.  AVhatever  pleased  her  son  pleased 
her;  and  she  was  glad  to  see  him  enjoy  himself  in  so  light-hearted 
a  fashion.  These  two  were  chatting  to  each  other  in  the  friend- 
liest manner ;  sometimes  they  stopped  to  pick  up  wild  flowers ; 
they  were  as  two  children  together,  under  the  fair  and  light  sum- 
mer skies. 

They  went  down  and  along  a  narrow  valley,  until  they  sudden- 
ly stood  in  front  of  the  sea,  the  green  waters  of  which  were  break- 
ing in  upon  a  small  and  lonely  creek.  What  strange  light  was 
this  that  fell  from  the  white  skies  above,  rendering  all  the  objects 
around  them  sharp  in  outline  and  intense  in  color  ?  The  beach 
before  them  seemed  of  a  pale  lilac,  where  the  green  waves  broke 
in  a  semicircle  of  white.  On  their  right  some  masses  of  ruddy 
rock  jutted  out  into  the  cold  sea,  and  there  were  huge  black  cav- 
cras  into  which  the  waves  dashed  and  roared.  On  their  left  and 
far  above  them  towered  a  great  and  isolated  rock,  its  precipitous 
sides  scored  here  and  there  with  twisted  lines  of  red  and  yellow 
quartz ;  and  on  the  summit  of  this  bold  headland,  amid  the  dark 
green  of  the  sea-grass,  they  could  see  the  dusky  ruins — the  crum- 
bling walls  and  doorways  and  battlements — of  the  castle  that  is 
named  in  all  the  stories  of  King  Arthur  and  his  knights.  The 
bridge  across  to  the  mainland  has,  in  the  course  of  centuries,  fall- 
en away ;  but  there,  on  the  other  side  of  the  wide  chasm,  were 


tintagel's  walls.  159 

the  ruins  of  the  other  portions  of  the  castle,  scarcely  to  be  distin- 
guished in  parts  from  the  grass-grown  rocks.  How  long  ago  was 
it  since  Sir  Tristram  rode  out  here  to  the  end  of  the  world,  to 
find  the  beautiful  Isoulte  awaiting  him — she  whom  he  had  brought 
from  Ireland  as  an  unwilling  bride  to  the  old  King  Mark  ?  And 
what  of  the  joyous  company  of  knights  and  ladies  who  once  held 
high  sport  in  the  courtyard  there  ?  Trelyon,  looking  shyly  at  his 
companion,  could  see  that  her  eyes  seemed  centuries  away  from 
him.  She  was  quite  unconscious  of  his  covertly  staring  at  her; 
for  she  was  absently  looking  at  the  high  and  bare  precipices,  the 
deserted  slopes  of  dark  sea-grass,  and  the  lonely  and  crumbling 
ruins.  She  was  wondering  whether  the  ghosts  of  those  vanished 
people  ever  came  back  to  this  desolate  headland,  where  they  would 
find  the  world  scarcely  altered  since  they  had  left  it.  Did  they 
come  at  night,  when  the  land  was  dark,  and  when  there  was  a 
light  over  the  sea  only  coming  from  the  stars?  If  one  were  to 
come  at  night  alone,  and  sit  down  here  by  the  shore,  might  not 
one  see  strange  things  far  overhead,  or  hear  some  sound  other 
than  the  falling  of  the  waves? 

"  Miss  Wenna,"  he  said — and  she  started  suddenly — "  are  you 
bold  enough  to  climb  up  to  the  castle?  I  know  my  mother  would 
rather  stay  here." 

She  went  with  him  mechanically.  She  followed  him  up  the 
rude  steps  cut  in  the  steep  slopes  of  slate,  holding  his  hand  where 
that  was  necessary ;  but  her  head  was  so  full  of  dreams  that  she 
answered  him  when  he  spoke  only  with  a  vague  Yes  or  No.  When 
they  descended  again,  they  found  that  Mabyn  had  taken  Mrs.  Tre- 
lyon down  to  the  beach,  and  had  inveigled  her  into  entering  a  huge 
cavern,  or  rather  a  natural  tunnel,  that  went  right  through  under- 
neath the  promontory  on  which  the  castle  is  built.  They  were  in 
a  sort  of  grecn-hued  twilight,  a  scent  of  sea-weed  filling  the  damp 
air,  and  their  voices  raising  an  echo  in  the  great  hall  of  rock. 

*'  I  hope  the  climbing  has  not  made  you  giddy,"  Mrs.  Trelyon 
said  in  her  kind  way  to  Wenna,  noticing  that  she  was  very  silent 
and  distraite. 

"  Oh  no !"  Mabyn  said  promptly.  "  She  has  been  seeing  ghosts. 
We  always  know  when  Wenna  has  been  seeing  ghosts.  She  re- 
mains so  for  hours." 

And,  indeed,  at  this  time  she  was  rather  more  reserved  than 
usual  all  during  their  walk  back  to  luncheon  and  while  they  Averc 


IGO  THREE    FEATHERS. 

in  the  inn ;  and  yet  she  was  obviously  very  happy,  and  sometimes 
even  amused  by  the  childlike  pleasure  -which  Mrs.  Trelyon  seemed 
to  obtain  from  these  unwonted  experiences. 

*'  Come  now,  mother,"  Master  Harry  said,  "  what  arc  you  going 
to  do  for  me  when  I  come  of  age  next  month  ?  Fill  the  house  with 
guests  ? — yes,  you  promised  that — with  not  more  than  one  parson 
to  the  dozen.  And  when  they  are  all  feasting  and  gabbling,  and 
missing  the  targets  with  their  arrows,  you'll  slip  quietly  away, 
and  I'll  drive  you  and  Miss  Wenna  over  here,  and  you'll  go  and 
get  your  feet  wet  again  in  that  cavern,  and  you'll  come  up  here 
again,  and  have  an  elegant  luncheon,  just  like  this.  Won't  that 
do?" 

"  I  don't  quite  know  about  the  elegance  of  the  luncheon ;  but 
I'm  sure  our  little  excursion  has  been  very  pleasant.  Don't  you 
think  so.  Miss  Rosewame  ?"  Mrs.  Trelyon  said. 

"  Indeed  I  do,"  said  Wenna,  with  her  big  dark  eyes  coming 
back  from  their  trance. 

"And  here  is  another  thing,"  remarked  young  Trelyon.  "There's 
a  picture  I've  seen  of  the  heir  coming  of  age — he's  a  horrid,  self- 
sufficient  young  cad,  but  never  mind — and  it  seems  to  be  a  day  of 
general  jollification.  Can't  I  give  a  present  to  somebody?  Well, 
I'm  going  to  give  it  to  a  young  lady,  who  never  cares  for  anything 
but  what  she  can  give  away  again  to  somebody  else ;  and  it  is — 
well,  it  is — why  don't  you  guess,  Mabyn  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  to  give  Wenna,"  said  Mabyn, 
naturally. 

"  AVliy,  you  silly,  I  mean  to  give  her  a  dozen  sewing-machines — 
a  baker's  dozen — thirteen — there  !  Oh,  I  heard  you  as  you  came 
along.  It  was  all,  *  Three  sewing-machines  will  cost  so  much,  and 
four  seioing-machines  will  cost  so  much,  and  five  sexoing-machines 
will  cost  so  much.  And  a  j)enny  a  week  from  so  many  subscribers 
loill  he  so  much,  and  twopence  a  week  from  so  many  will  he  so 
much  ;'  and  all  this  as  if  my  mother  could  tell  you  how  much 
twice  two  was.  My  arithmetic  ain't  very  brilliant ;  but  as  for 
hers —  And  these  you  shall  have.  Miss  Wenna  —  one  baker's 
dozen  of  sewing-machines,  as  per  order,  duly  delivered,  carriage 
free ;  empty  casks  and  bottles  to  be  returned." 

"  That  is  very  kind  of  you,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  Wenna  said — and  all 
the  dreams  had  gone  straight  out  of  her  head  so  soon  as  this  was 
mentioned — "but  we  can't  possibly  accept  them.    You  know  our 


TINTAGEL  S   WALLS.  161 

scheme  is  to  make  the  Sewing  Club  quite  self-supporting — no 
charity." 

"Oh,  what  stuff!"  the  young  gentleman  cried,  "You  know 
you  will  give  all  your  labor  and  supervision  for  nothing — isn't 
that  charity  ?  And  you  know  you  will  let  off  all  sorts  of  people 
owing  you  subscriptions  the  moment  some  blessed  baby  falls  ill. 
And  you  know  you  won't  charge  interest  on  all  the  outlay.  But 
if  you  insist  on  paying  me  back  for  my  sewing-machines  out  of 
the  overwhelming  profits  at  the  end  of  next  year,  then  I'll  take 
the  money.     I'm  not  proud." 

"Then  we  will  take  six  sewing-machines  from  you,  if  you  please, 
Mr.  Trelyon,  on  those  conditions,"  said  Wenna,  gravely.  And  Mas- 
ter Harry — with  a  look  towards  Mabyn  which  w^as  just  about  as 
good  as  a  wink — consented. 

As  they  drove  quietly  back  again  to  Eglosilyan,  Mabyn  had 
taken  her  former  place  by  the  driver,  and  found  him  uncommonly 
thoughtful.  He  answered  her  questions,  but  that  was  all ;  and  it 
was  so  unusual  to  find  Harry  Trelyon  in  this  mood  that  she  said 
to  him — 

"  Mr.  Trelyon,  have  you  been  seeing  ghosts  too  ?" 

He  turned  to  her  and  said — 

"  I  was  thinking  about  something.  Look  here,  Mabyn ;  did 
you  ever  know  any  one,  or  do  you  know  any  one,  whose  face  is  a 
sort  of  barometer  to  you?  Suppose  that  you  see  her  look  pale 
and  tired,  or  sad  in  any  way,  then  down  go  your  spirits,  and  you 
almost  wish  you  had  never  been  born.  When  you  see  her  face 
brighten  up,  and  get  full  of  healthy  color,  you  feel  glad  enough 
to  burst  out  singing  or  go  mad ;  anyhow  you  know  that  every- 
thing's all  right.  What  the  weather  is,  what  people  may  say 
about  you,  whatever  else  may  happen  to  you,  that's  nothing — all 
you  want  to  sec  is  just  that  one  person's  face  look  perfectly  bright 
and  perfectly  happy,  and  nothing  can  touch  you  then.  Did  you 
ever  know  anybody  like  that  ?"  he  added,  rather  abruptly. 

"  Oh  yes !"  said  Mabyn,  in  a  low  voice ;  "  that  is  when  you  are 
in  love  with  some  one.  And  there  is  only  one  face  in  all  the 
world  that  I  look  to  for  all  these  things — there  is  only  one  person 
I  know  who  tells  you  openly  and  simply  in  her  face  all  that  affects 
her — and  that  is  our  Wenna,  I  suppose  you  have  noticed  that, 
Mr,  Trelyon  ?" 

But  he  did  not  make  any  answer. 


162  THREE    FEATHERS. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

CONFESSION. 

The  lad  lay  dreaming  in  the  Avarm  meadows,  by  tlie  side  of  a 
small  and  rapid  brook,  the  clear  waters  of  which  plashed  and 
bubbled  in  the  sunlight  as  they  hurried  past  the  brown  stones. 
His  fishing-rod  lay  near  him,  hidden  in  the  long  grass  and  the 
daisiel  The  sun  Avas  hot  in  the  valley — shining  on  a  wall  of  gray 
rock  behind  him,  and  throwing  purple  shadows  over  the  clefts ; 
shining  on  the  dark  bushes  beside  the  stream,  and  on  the  lush 
green  of  the  meadows ;  shining  on  the  trees  beyond,  in  the  shad- 
ow of  which  some  dark-red  cattle  were  standing.  Then  away  on 
the  other  side  of  the  valley  rose  gently  sloping  woods,  gray  and 
green  in  the  haze  of  the  heat ;  and  over  these  again  was  the  pale 
blue  sky  with  scarcely  a  cloud  in  it.  It  was  a  hot  day  to  be 
found  in  spring-time ;  but  the  waters  of  the  brook  seemed  cool 
and  pleasant  as  they  gurgled  by,  and  occasionally  a  breath  of 
wind  blew  from  over  the  woods.  For  the  rest,  he  lay  so  still  on 
this  fine,  indolent,  dreamy  morning  that  the  birds  around  seemed 
to  take  no  note  of  his  presence  ;  and  one  of  the  large  woodpeck- 
ers, with  his  scarlet  head  and  green  body  brilliant  in  the  sun,  flew 
close  by  him  and  disappeared  into  the  bushes  opposite,  like  a  sud- 
den gleam  of  color  shot  by  a  diamond. 

"  Next  month,"  he  Avas  thinking  to  himself,  as  he  lay  with  his 
hands  behind  his  head,  not  caring  to  shade  his  handsome  and 
well-tanned  face  from  the  warm  sun — "  next  month  I  shall  be 
twenty-one,  and  most  folks  will  consider  me  a  man.  Anyhow,  I 
don't  know  the  man  whom  I  Avouldn't  fight,  or  run,  or  ride,  or 
shoot  against,  for  any  Avager  he  liked.  But  of  all  the  people  who 
knoAv  anything  about  me,  just  that  one  Avhose  opinion  I  care  for 
will  not  consider  me  a  man  at  all,  but  only  a  boy.  And  that  with- 
out saying  anything.  You  can  tell,  somehoAv,  by  a  mere  look 
what  her  feelings  are ;  and  you  knoAV  that  Avhat  she  thinks  is 
true.  Of  course  it's  true — I  am  only  a  boy.  What's  the  good 
of  me  to  anybody  ?     I  could  look  after  a  farm — that  is,  I  could 


CONFESSION.  163 

look  after  other  people  doing  their  work,  but  I  couldn't  do  any 
myself.  And  that  seems  to  me  what  she  is  always  looking  at — 
what's  the  good  of  you,  what  are  you  doing,  what  are  you  busy 
about?  It's  all  very  well  for  her  to  be  busy,  for  she  can  do  a 
hundred  thousand  things,  and  she  is  always  at  them.  What  can 
I  do  ?" 

Then  his  wandering  day-dreamings  took  another  turn. 

"  It  was  an  odd  thing  for  Mabyn  to  say,  ''That  is  when  you  are 
in  love  with  some  one,''  But  those  girls  take  everything  for  love. 
They  don't  know  how  you  can  admire  almost  to  worshipping  the 
goodness  of  a  woman,  and  how  you  are  anxious  that  she  should 
be  well  and  happy,  and  how  you  would  do  anything  in  the  world 
to  please  her,  without  fancying  straight  away  that  you  are  in  love 
with  her,  and  want  to  marry  her,  and  drive  about  in  the  same  car- 
riage with  her.  I  shall  be  quite  as  fond  of  Wenna  Eosewarne 
when  she  is  married ;  although  I  shall  hate  that  little  brute  with 
his  rum  and  his  treacle — the  cheek  of  him,  in  asking  her  to  marry 
him,  is  astonishing.  He  is  the  most  hideous  little  beast  that  could 
have  been  picked  out  to  marry  any  woman  ;  but  I  suppose  he  has 
appealed  to  her  compassion,  and  then  she'll  do  anything.  But  if 
there  was  anybody  else  in  love  with  her — if  she  cared  the  least 
bit  about  anybody  else — wouldn't  I  go  straight  to  her,  and  insist 
on  her  shunting  that  fellow  aside !  What  claim  has  he  on  any 
other  feeling  of  hers  but  her  compassion?  Why,  if  that  fellow 
were  to  come  and  try  to  frighten  her — and  if  I  were  in  the  affair, 
and  if  she  appealed  to  me  even  by  a  look — then  there  would  be 
short  work  with  something  or  somebody  !" 

He  got  up  hastily,  with  something  of  an  angry  look  on  his  face. 
He  did  not  notice  that  he  had  startled  all  the  birds  around  from 
out  of  the  bushes.  He  picked  up  his  rod  and  line  in  a  morose 
fashion,  not  seeming  to  care  about  adding  to  the  half-dozen  small 
and  red-speckled  trout  he  had  in  his  basket. 

While  he  was  thus  irresolutely  standing,  he  caught  sight  of 
a  girl's  figure  coming  rapidly  along  the  valley,  under  the  shadow 
of  some  ash-trees  growing  by  the  stream.  It  was  Wenna  Rose- 
warne  herself,  and  she  seemed  to  be  hurrying  towards  him.  She 
was  caiTying  some  black  object  in  her  arms. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Trelyon  !"  she  said,  "  what  am  I  to  do  with  this  little 
dog  ?  I  saw  him  kicking  in  the  road  and  foaming  at  the  mouth 
— and  then  he  got  up  and  ran — and  I  took  him — " 


1G4  THREE    FEATHERS. 

Before  she  had  time  to  say  anything  more  the  young  man  made 
a  sudden  dive  at  the  dog,  caught  hold  of  him,  and  turned  and 
heaved  hiui  into  the  stream.  He  fell  into  a  little  pool  of  clear 
brown  water ;  he  spluttered  and  paddled  there  for  a  second  ;  then 
he  got  his  footing  and  scrambled  across  the  stones  up  to  the  op- 
posite bank,  where  he  began  shaking  the  water  from  his  coat 
among  the  long  grass, 

"  Oh,  how  could  you  be  so  disgracefully  cruel !"  she  said,  Avith 
her  face  full  of  indignation. 

"And  how  could  you  be  so  imprudent?"  he  said,  quite  as  ve- 
hemently.    "  Why,  whose  is  the  dog?" 

"  I  don't  know." 

"And  you  catch  up  some  mongrel  little  cur  in  the  middle  of 
the  highway — he  might  have  been  mad — " 

"  I  knew  he  wasn't  mad  !"  she  said ;  "  it  was  only  a  fit ;  and 
how  could  you  be  so  cruel  as  to  throw  him  into  the  river  ?" 

"  Oh  1"  said  the  young  man,  coolly,  "  a  dash  of  cold  water  is 
the  best  thing  for  a  dog  when  it  has  a  fit.  Besides,  I  don't  care 
Avhat  he  had,  or  what  I  did  Avith  him,  so  long  as  you  are  safe. 
Your  little  finger  is  of  more  consequence  than  the  necks  of  all  the 
curs  in  the  country." 

"  Oh !  it  is  mean  of  you  to  say  that,"  she  retorted,  warmly, 
"You  have  no  pity  for  those  wretched  little  things  that  are  at 
every  one's  mercy.  If  it  were  a  handsome  and  beautiful  dog, 
now,  you  would  care  for  that ;  or  if  it  Avere  a  dog  that  was  skilled 
in  getting  game  for  you,  you  would  care  for  that." 

"  Yes,  certainly,"  he  said ;  "  these  are  dogs  that  have  some- 
thing to  recommend  them." 

"  Yes,  and  every  one  is  good  to  them ;  they  are  not  in  need  of 
your  favor.  But  you  don't  think  of  the  wretched  little  brutes 
that  have  nothing  to  recommend  them — that  only  live  on  suffer- 
ance— that  every  one  kicks  and  despises  and  starves." 

"  Well,"  said  he,  Avith  some  compunction,  "  look  there !  That 
ncAv  friend  of  yours — he's  no  great  beauty,  you  must  confess — is 
all  right  now.  The  bath  has  cured  him.  As  soon  as  he's  done 
licking  his  paAvs,  he'll  be  off  home,  Avherever  that  may  be.  But 
I've  always  noticed  that  about  you,Wenna — you're  ahvays  on  the 
side  of  things  that  are  ugly  and  helpless  and  useless  in  the  world ; 
and  you're  not  very  just  to  those  Avho  don't  agree  Avith  you.  For 
after  all,  you  knoAv,  one  Avants  time  to  acquire  that  notion  of  yours 


CONFESSION.  165 

— that  it  is  only  weak  and  ill-favored  creatures  tliat  are  worthy 
of  any  consideration." 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  rather  sadly ;  "  you  want  time  to  learn 
that." 

He  looked  at  her.  Did  she  mean  that  her  sympathy  with  those 
who  were  weak  and  ill-favored  arose  from  some  strange  conscious- 
ness that  she  herself  was  both?  His  cheeks  began  to  burn  red. 
He  had  often  heard  her  hint  something  like  that ;  and  yet  he  had 
never  dared  to  reason  with  her,  or  show  her  what  he  thought  of 
her.     Should  he  do  so  now  ? 

"  Wenna,"  he  said,  blushing  hotly,  "  I  can't  make  you  out  some- 
times. You  speak  as  if  no  one  cared  for  you.  Now,  if  I  were  to 
tell  you—" 

"  Oh,  I  am  not  so  ungrateful,"  she  said,  hastily.  "  I  know  that 
two  or  three  do — and — and,  Mr.  Trelyon,  do  you  think  you  could 
coax  that  little  dog  over  the  stream  again  ?  You  see  he  has  come 
back  again — he  can't  find  his  way  home." 

Mr.  Trelyon  called  to  the  dog ;  it  came  down  to  the  brook's 
side,  and  whined  and  shivered  on  the  brink.  "Do  you  care  a 
brass  farthing  about  the  little  beast  ?"  he  said  to  Wenna. 

"  I  must  put.  him  on  his  way  home,"  she  answered. 

Thereupon  the  young  man  went  straight  through  the  stream  to 
the  other  side,  jumping  the  deeper  portions  of  the  channel ;  he 
caught  up  the  dog,  and  brought  it  back  to  her;  and  when  she 
was  very  angry  with  him  for  this  mad  performance,  he  merely 
kicked  some  of  the  water  out  of  his  trousers,  and  laughed.  Then 
a  smile  broke  over  her  face  also. 

"  Is  that  an  example  of  what  people  would  do  for  me  ?"  she 
said,  shyly.  "  Mr.  Trelyon,  you  must  keep  walking  through  the 
warm  grass  till  your  feet  are  dry ;  or  will  you  come  along  to  the 
inn,  and  I  shall  get  you  some  shoes  and  stockings  ?  Pray  do ; 
and  at  once.     I  am  rather  in  a  hurry." 

"  I'll  go  along  with  you,  anyway,"  he  said,  *'  and  put  this  little 
brute  into  the  highway.     But  why  are  you  in  a  hurry  ?" 

"  Because,"  said  Wenna,  as  they  set  out  to  walk  down  the  val- 
ley— "  because  my  mother  and  I  arc  going  to  Penzance  the  day 
after  to-moiTow,  and  I  have  a  lot  of  things  to  get  ready." 

"  To  Penzance  ?"  said  he,  with  a  sudden  falling  of  the  face. 

*'  Yes.  She  has  been  dreadfully  out  of  sorts  lately,  and  she  has 
sunk  into  a  kind  of  despondent  state.     The  doctor  says  she  must 


166  THREE    FEATHERS. 

have  a  change — a  holiday,  really,  to  take  her  away  from  the  cares 
of  the  house — " 

"  Why,  Wenna,  it's  you  who  want  the  holiday ;  it's  you  who 
have  the  cares  of  the  house !"  Trelyon  said,  warmly. 

"And  so  I  have  persuaded  her  to  go  to  Penzance  for  a  week 
or  two,  and  I  go  with  her  to  look  after  her.  Mr.  Trelyon,  would 
you  be  kind  enough  to  keep  Rock  for  me  until  we  come  back  ?  I 
am  afraid  of  the  servants  neglecting  him." 

"  You  needn't  be  afraid  of  that :  he's  not  one  of  the  ill-favored ; 
every  one  will  attend  to  him,"  said  Trelyon ;  and  then  he  added, 
after  a  minute  or  two  of  sUence,  "  The  fact  is,  I  think  I  shall  be 
at  Penzance  also  while  you  are  there.  My  Cousin  Juliott  is  com- 
ing here  in  about  a  fortnight,  to  celebrate  the  important  event  of 
my  coming  of  age,  and  I  promised  to  go  for  her.  I  might  as  well 
go  now." 

She  said  nothing. 

"  I  might  as  well  go  any  time,"  he  said,  rather  impatiently.  "  I 
haven't  got  anything  to  do.  Do  you  know,  before  you  came 
along  just  now,  I  was  thinking  what  a  very  useful  person  you 
were  in  the  world,  and  what  a  very  useless  person  I  was — about 
as  useless  as  this  little  cur.  I  think  somebody  should  take  me 
up  and  heave  me  into  a  river.  And  I  was  wondering,  too  " — here 
he  became  a  little  more  embarrassed  and  slow  of  speech — "  I  was 
wondering  what  you  would  say  if  I  spoke  to  you,  and  gave  you 
a  hint  that  sometimes — that  sometimes  one  might  wish  to  cut 
this  lazy  life  if  one  only  knew  how,  and  whether  so  very  busy  a 
person  as  yourself  mightn't,  don't  you  see,  give  one  some  notion 
— some  sort  of  hint,  in  fact — " 

"  Oh  !  but  then,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  quite  cheerfully,  "  you 
would  think  it  very  strange  if  I  asked  you  to  take  any  interest  in 
the  things  that  keep  me  busy.  That  is  not  a  man's  work.  I 
wouldn't  accept  you  as  a  pupil." 

He  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Why,"  said  he,  "  do  you  think  I  offered  to  mend  stockings, 
and  set  sums  on  slates,  and  coddle  babies  ?" 

"  As  for  setting  sums  on  slates,"  she  remarked,  with  a  quiet  im- 
pertinence, "  the  working  of  them  out  might  be  of  use  to  you." 

"  Yes,  and  a  serious  trouble,  too,"  he  said,  candidly.  "  No,  no 
— that  cottage  business  ain't  in  my  line.  I  like  to  have  a  joke 
with  the  old  folks  or  a  romp  with  the  children ;  but  I  can't  go  in 


CONFESSION.  167 

for  cutting  out  pinafores.  I  shall  leave  my  mother  to  do  my 
share  of  that  for  me ;  and  hasn't  she  come  out  strong  lately,  eh  ? 
It's  quite  a  new  amusement  for  her,  and  it's  driven  a  deal  of  that 
organ-grinding  stuff  out  of  her  head ;  and  I've  a  notion  some  of 
those  parsons — " 

He  stopped  short,  remembering  who  his  companion  was;  and 
at  this  moment  they  came  to  a  gate  which  opened  out  on  the 
highway,  through  which  the  small  cur  was  passed  to  find  his  way 
home. 

"  Now,  Miss  Wenna,"  said  the  young  man — "  by  the  way,  you 
see  how  I  remember  to  address  you  respectfully  ever  since  you 
got  sulky  with  me  about  it  the  other  day  ?" 

"  I  am  sure  I  did  not  get  sulky  with  you,  and  especially  about 
that,"  she  remarked,  with  much  composure.  "  I  suppose  you  are 
not  aware  that  you  have  dropped  the  '  Miss '  several  times  this 
morning  already  ?" 

"  Did  I,  really  ?  Well,  then,  I'm  awfully  sorry — but  then  you 
are  so  good-natured  you  tempt  one  to  forget ;  and  my  mother 
she  always  calls  you  Wenna  Rosewarne  now  in  speaking  to  me, 
as  if  you  were  a  little  school-girl  instead  of  being  the  chief  sup- 
port and  pillar  of  all  the  public  affairs  of  Eglosilyan.  And  now, 
Miss  Wenna,  I  sha'n't  go  down  the  road  with  you,  because  my 
damp  boots  and  garments  would  gather  the  dust ;  but  perhaps 
you  wouldn't  mind  stopping  two  seconds  here,  and  I'm  going  to 
go  a  cracker  and  ask  you  a  question :  What  should  a  fellow  in 
my  position  try  to  do  ?  You  see,  I  haven't  had  the  least  training 
for  any  one  of  the  professions,  even  if  I  had  any  sort  of  ca- 
pacity— " 

**  But  why  should  you  wish  to  have  a  profession  ?"  she  said, 
simply.  "  You  have  more  money  than  is  good  for  you  already." 
.  "  Then  you  don't  think  it  ignominious,"  he  said,  with  his  face 
lighting  up  considerably,  *'to  fish  in  summer,  and  shoot  in  au- 
tumn, and  hunt  in  winter,  and  make  that  the  only  business  of 
one's  life  ?" 

"  I  should,  if  it  were  the  only  business ;  but  it  needn't  be,  and 
you  don't  make  it  so.  My  father  speaks  very  highly  of  the  way 
you  look  after  your  property ;  and  he  knows  what  attendino-  to 
an  estate  is.  And  then  you  have  so  many  opportunities  of  beino- 
kind  and  useful  to  the  people  about  you,  that  you  might  do  more 
good  that  way  than  by  working  night  and  day  at  a  profession. 


1G8  THREE    FEATHERS. 

Then  you  owe  much  to  yourself ;  because  if  every  one  began  with 
himself,  and  educated  himself,  and  became  satisfied  and  happy 
with  doing  his  best,  there  would  be  no  bad  conduct  and  wretch- 
edness to  call  for  interference.  I  don't  see  why  you  should  be 
ashamed  of  shooting  and  hunting,  and  all  that ;  and  doing  them 
as  well  as  anybody  else,  or  far  better,  as  I  hear  people  say.  I 
don't  think  a  man  is  bound  to  have  ambition  and  try  to  become 
famous ;  you  might  be  of  much  greater  use  in  the  world  even  in 
such  a  little  place  as  Eglosilyan  than  if  you  were  in  Parliament. 
I  did  say  to  Mrs.  Trelyon  that  I  should  like  to  see  you  in  Parlia- 
ment, because  one  has  a  natural  pride  in  any  one  that  one  ad- 
mires and  likes  very  much — " 

He  saw  the  quick  look  of  fear  that  sprang  to  her  eyes — not  a 
sudden  appearance  of  shy  embarrassment,  but  of  absolute  fear; 
and  he  was  almost  as  startled  by  her  blunder  as  she  herself  was. 
He  hastily  came  to  her  rescue.  He  thanked  her  in  a  few  rapid 
and  formal  words  for  her  patience  and  advice  ;  and,  as  he  saw 
she  was  trying  to  turn  away  and  hide  the  mortification  visible  on 
her  face,  he  shook  hands  with  her,  and  let  her  go. 

Then  he  turned.  He  had  been  startled,  it  is  true,  and  grieved 
to  see  the  pain  her  chance  words  had  caused  her.  But  now  a  great 
glow  of  delight  rose  up  within  him ;  and  he  could  have  called 
aloud  to  the  blue  skies  and  the  silent  woods  because  of  the  joy 
that  filled  his  heart.  They  were  chance  words,  of  course.  They 
were  uttered  with  no  deliberate  intention ;  on  the  contrary,  her 
quick  look  of  pain  showed  how  bitterly  she  regretted  the  blun- 
der. Moreover,  he  congratulated  himself  on  his  rapid  piece  of 
acting,  and  assured  himself  that  she  would  believe  that  lie  had  not 
noticed  that  admission  of  hers.  They  were  idle  words.  She 
would  forget  them.  Tlie  incident,  so  far  as  she  was  concerned, 
was  gone. 

But  not  so  far  as  he  was  concerned.  For  now  he  knew  that 
the  person  whom,  above  all  other  persons  in  the  world,  he  was 
most  desirous  to  please,  whose  respect  and  esteem  he  was  most 
anxious  to  obtain,  had  not  only  condoned  much  of  his  idleness, 
out  of  the  abundant  charity  of  her  heart,  but  had  further,  and  by 
chance,  revealed  to  him  that  she  gave  him  some  little  share  of 
that  affection  which  she  seemed  to  shed  generously  and  indis- 
criminately on  so  many  folks  and  things  around  her.  He,  too, 
was  now  in  the  charmed  circle.     He  walked  with  a  new  pride 


ON    WINGS    OF    HOPE.  169 

through  the  Avarm,  green  meadows,  his  rod  over  his  shoulder ;  he 
whistled  as  he  went,  or  he  sang  snatches  of  "  The  Rose  of  Allan- 
dale."  He  met  two  small  boys  out  bird's-nesting;  he  gave  them 
a  shilling  apiece,  and  then  inconsistently  informed  them  that  if 
he  caught  them,  then  or  at  any  other  time,  with  a  bird's  nest  in 
their  hands,  he  would  cufE  their  ears.  Then  he  walked  hastily 
home,  put  by  his  fishing-rod,  and  shut  himself  up  in  his  study 
with  half  a  dozen  of  those  learned  volumes  which  he  had  brought 
back  unsoiled  from  school. 


CHAPTER  XXH. 

ON     WINGS     OF     HOPE. 


When  Trelyon  arrived  late  one  evening  at  Penzance,  he  was 
surprised  to  find  his  uncle's  coachman  awaiting  him  at  the  station. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Tobias  ?  Is  the  old  gentleman  going  to 
die  ?     You  don't  mean  to  say  you  are  here  for  me  ?" 

"  Yaas,  zor,  I  be,"  said  the  little  old  man,  with  no  great  courtesy. 

"  Then  he  is  going  to  die,  if  he  sends  out  his  horse  at  this  time 
o'  night.  Look  here,  Tobias ;  I'll  put  my  portmanteau  inside  and 
come  on  the  box  to  have  a  talk  with  you — you're  such  a  jolly  old 
card,  you  know — and  you'll  tell  me  all  that's  happened  since  I  last 
enjoyed  my  uncle's  bountiful  hospitality." 

This  the  young  man  did ;  and  then  the  brown-faced,  wiry,  and 
surly  little  person,  having  started  his  horse,  proceeded  to  tell  his 
story  in  a  series  of  grumbling  and  disconnected  sentences.  He 
was  not  nearly  so  taciturn  as  he  looked. 

"  The  maastcr  he  went  siin  to  bed  to-night — 'twere  Miss  Juliott 
sent  me  to  the  station,  without  tellin'  en.  He's  gettin'  worse  and 
worse,  that's  siire ;  if  yii  be  for  givin'  me  half  a  crown,  like,  or 
any  one  that  comes  to  the  house,  he  finds  it  out  and  stops  it  out 
o'  my  wages :  yes,  he  does,  zor,  the  old  fule !" 

'*  Tobias,  be  a  little  more  respectful  to  my  uncle,  if  you  please." 

"  Why,  zor,  yu  knaw  en  well  enough !"  said  the  man,  in  the 
same  surly  fashion.  "  And  I'll  tell  yu  this,  Maastcr  Harry,  if  yii 
be  after  dinner  with  en,  and  he  has  a  bottle  o'  poort  wine  that  he 
puts  on  the  mantel-piece,  and  he  says  to  yii  to  let  that  aloan,  vor 

TI 


170  TUREE    FEATHERS. 

'tis  a  medicine-zart  o'  wine,  don't  yii  heed  en,  but  have  that  wine. 
'Tis  the  real  old  poort  wine,  zor,  that  yiir  vather  gied  en  ;  the 
dahmned  old  Pagan !" 

The  young  man  burst  out  laughing,  instead  of  reprimanding 
Tobias,  who  maintained  his  sulky  impassiveness  of  face. 

"  Why,  zor,  I  be  gardener  now,  too ;  yaas,  I  be,  to  save  the 
wages.  And  he's  gone  clean  mazed  about  that  garden ;  yes,  I 
think.  Would  yu  believe  this,  Maaster  Harry,  that  he  killed  every 
one  o'  the  blessed  strawberries  last  year  with  a  lot  o'  wrack  from 
the  bache,  because  he  said  it  wiid  be  as  good  for  them  as  for  the 
'sparagus  ?" 

"  Well,  but  the  old  chap  finds  amusement  in  pottering  about 
the  garden — " 

"  The  old  fule  !"  repeated  Tobias,  in  an  undertone. 

"  And  the  theory  is  sound  about  the  sea-weed  and  the  straw- 
berries ;  just  as  his  old  notion  of  getting  a  green  rose  was  by  pour- 
ing sulphate  of  copper  in  at  the  roots." 

"  Yaas,  that  were  another  pretty  thing,  Maaster  Harry ;  and  he 
had  the  tin  labels  all  printed  out  in  French,  and  he  waited  and 
waited,  and  there  hain't  a  fairly  giide  rose  left  in  the  garden. 
And  his  violet  glass  for  the  cucumbers — he  burned  en  up  to  once, 
although  'twere  fine  to  hear  'n  talk  about  the  sunlight  and  the 
rays,  and  such  nonsenses.  He  be  a  strange  mahn,  zor,  and  a 
dahmned  close  'n  with  his  penny  pieces,  Christian  and  all  as  he 
calls  hissen.  There's  Miss  Juliott,  zor,  she's  goin'  to  get  married, 
I  suppose ;  and  when  she  goes,  no  one'll  dare  speak  to  'n.  Be  yii 
goin'  to  stop  long  this  time,  Maaster  Harry  ?" 

"  Not  at  the  Hollies,  Tobias.  I  shall  go  down  to  the  Queen's 
to-morrow ;  I've  got  rooms  there." 

"  So  much  the  better ;  so  much  the  better,"  said  the  frank  but 
inhospitable  retainer;  and  presently  the  jog-trot  old  animal  be- 
tween the  shafts  was  pulled  up  in  front  of  a  certain  square  old- 
fashioned  building  of  gray  stone,  which  was  prettily  surrounded 
with  trees.  They  had  arrived  at  the  Rev.  Mr.  Penaluna's  house ; 
and  there  was  a  young  lady  standing  in  the  light  of  the  hall,  she 
having  opened  the  door  very  softly  as  she  heard  the  carriage  drive 
up. 

"  So  here  you  are,  Harry ;  and  you'll  stay  with  us  the  whole 
fortnight,  won't  you  ?  Come  into  the  dining-room — I  have  some 
supper  ready  for  you.     Papa's  gone  to  bed,  and  he  desired  me  to 


ON    WINGS    OF    HOPE.  I7l 

give  you  his  excuses,  and  he  hopes  you'll  make  yourself  quite  at 
home,  as  you  always  do,  Harry." 

He  did  make  himself  quite  at  home ;  for,  having  kissed  his 
cousin,  and  flung  his  top-coat  down  in  the  hall,  he  went  into  the 
dining-room,  and  took  possession  of  an  easy-chair. 

"  Sha'n't  have  any  supper,  Jue,  thank  you.  You  won't  mind 
my  lighting  a  cigar — somebody's  been  smoking  here  already. 
And  what's  the  least  poisonous  claret  you've  got  ?" 

"  Well,  I  declare !"  she  said ;  but  she  got  him  the  wine  all  the 
same,  and  watched  him  light  his  cigar ;  then  she  took  the  easy- 
chair  opposite. 

"  Tell  us  about  your  young  man,  Jue,"  he  said.  *'  Girls  always 
like  to  talk  about  that." 

"  Do  they  ?"  she  said.     "  Not  to  boys." 

"  I  shall  be  twenty-one  in  a  fortnight.  I  am  thinking  of  get- 
ting married." 

"  So  I  hear,"  she  remarked,  quietly. 

Now  he  had  been  talking  nonsense  at  random — mostly  intent 
on  getting  his  cigar  well  lit;  but  this  little  observation  rather 
startled  him. 

"  What  have  you  heard  ?"  he  said,  abruptly. 

"  Oh !  nothing — the  ordinary  stupid  gossip,"  she  said,  though 
she  was  watching  him  rather  closely.  "  Are  you  going  to  stay 
with  us  for  the  next  fortnight  ?" 

"  No ;  I  have  got  rooms  at  the  Queen's." 

"  I  thought  so.  One  might  have  expected  you,  however,  to  stay 
with  your  relations  when  you  came  to  Penzance." 

"  Oh,  that's  all  gammon,  Jue !"  he  said ;  "  you  know  very  well 
your  father  doesn't  care  to  have  any  one  stay  with  you — it's  too 
much  bother.  You'll  have  quite  enough  of  me  while  I  am  in  Pen- 
zance." 

"  Shall  we  have  anything  of  you?"  she'said,  with  apparent  in- 
difference. "  I  understood  that  Miss  Rosewarne  and  her  mamma 
had  already  come  here." 

"  And  what  if  they  have  ?"  he  said,  with  unnecessary  fierceness. 

"  Well,  Harry,"  she  said,  "  you  needn't  get  into  a  temper  about 
it ;  but  people  will  talk,  you  know ;  and  they  say  that  your  atten- 
tions to  that  young  lady  are  rather  marked  considering  that  she  is 
engaged  to  be  married ;  and  you  have  induced  your  mother  to 
make  a  pet  of  her.     Shall  I  go  on  ?" 


172  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"No,  you  needn't,"  lie  said,  with  a  strong  effort  to  overcome 
his  anger.  "You're  quite  right — people  do  talk;  but  they 
Avouldn't  talk  so  much  if  other  people  didn't  carry  tales.  Why, 
it  isn't  like  you,  Juc.  I  thought  you  were  another  sort.  And 
about  this  girl  of  all  girls  in  the  world — " 

He  got  up  and  began  walking  about  the  room,  and  talking  with 
considerable  vehemence,  but  no  more  in  anger.  He  would  tell 
her  what  cause  there  was  for  this  silly  gossip.  lie  would  tell  her 
Avho  this  girl  was  who  had  been  lightly  mentioned.  And  in  his 
blunt,  frank,  matter-of-fact  way,  which  did  not  quite  conceal  his 
emotion,  he  revealed  to  his  cousin  all  that  he  thought  of  Wenna 
Rosewame,  and  what  he  hoped  for  her  in  the  future,  and  what 
their  present  relations  were,  and  then  plainly  asked  her  if  she 
could  condemn  him.     Miss  Juliott  was  touched. 

"Sit  down,  Harry;  I  have  wanted  to  talk  to  you,  and  I  don't 
mean  to  heed  any  gossip.  Sit  down,  please — you  frighten  me  by 
walking  up  and  down  like  that.  Now  I'm  going  to  talk  com- 
mon-sense to  you,  for  I  should  like  to  be  your  friend ;  and  your 
mother  is  so  easily  led  away  by  any  sort  of  sentiment  that  she 
isn't  likely  to  have  seen  with  my  eyes.  Suppose  that  this  Miss 
Rosewarne — " 

"  No  ;  hold  hard  a  bit,  Jue,"  he  said,  imperatively.  "  You  may 
talk  till  the  millennium,  but  just  keep  ofi  her,  I  warn  you." 

"Will  you  hear  me  out,  you  silly  boy?  Suppose  that  Miss 
Rosewame  is  everything  that  you  believe  her  to  be.  I'm  going 
to  grant  that,  because  I'm  going  to  ask  you  a  question.  You 
can't  have  such  an  opinion  of  any  girl,  and  be  constantly  in  her 
society,  and  go  following  her  about  like  this,  without  f;dling  in 
love  with  her.  Now,  in  that  case,  would  you  propose  to  marry 
her?" 

"  I  marry  her !"  he  said,  his  face  becoming  suddenly  pale  for  a 
moment.  "Jue,  you  are  mad.  I  am  not  fit  to  marry  a  girl  like 
that.     You  don't  know  her.     "\Miy— " 

"  Let  all  that  alone,  Harry ;  Avhen  a  man  is  in  love  with  a  wom- 
an he  always  thinks  he's  good  enough  for  her ;  and  whether  he 
does  or  not  he  tries  to  get  her  for  a  wife.  Don't  let  us  discuss 
your  comparative  merits — one  might  even  put  in  a  word  for  you. 
But  suppose  you  drifted  into  being  in  love  with  her — and  I  con- 
sider that  quite  probable — and  suppose  you  forgot,  as  I  know  you 
would  forget,  the  difference  in  your  social  position,  how  would 


ON    WINGS    OF    HOPE.  173 

you  like  to  go  and  ask  her  to  break  lier  promise  to  the  gentle- 
man to  whom  she  is  engaged'^" 

Master  Harry  laughed  aloud,  in  a  somewhat  nervous  fash- 
ion. 

"  Him  ?  Look  here,  Jue ;  leave  me  out  of  it — I  haven't  the 
cheek  to  talk  of  myself  in  that  connection ;  but  if  there  was  a  de- 
cent sort  of  fellow  whom  that  girl  really  took  a  liking  to,  do  you 
think  he  would  let  that  elderly  and  elegant  swell  in  Jamaica  stand 
in  his  way  ?  He  would  be  no  such  fool,  I  can  tell  you.  He  would 
consider  the  girl  first  of  all.  He  would  say  to  himself,  '  I  mean 
to  make  this  girl  happy ;  if  any  one  interferes,  let  him  look  out !' 
Why,  Jue,  you  don't  suppose  any  man  would  be  frightened  by 
that  sort  of  thing  !" 

Miss  Juliott  did  not  seem  quite  convinced  by  this  burst  of 
scornful  oratory.     She  continued  quietly — 

"  You  forget  something,  Harry.  Your  heroic  young  man 
might  find  it  easy  to  do  something  wild — to  fight  with  that  gen- 
tleman in  the  West  Indies,  or  murder  him,  or  anything  like  that, 
just  as  you  see  in  a  story ;  but  perhaps  Miss  Rosewarne  might 
have  something  to  say." 

"  I  meant  if  she  cared  for  him,"  Trelyon  said,  looking  down. 

"  Granting  that  also,  do  you  think  it  likely  your  hot-headed 
gentleman  would  be  able  to  get  a  young  lady  to  disgrace  herself 
by  breaking  her  plighted  word,  and,  deceiving  a  man  who  went 
away  trusting  in  her  ?  You  say  she  has  a  very  tender  conscience 
— that  she  is  so  anxious  to  consult  every  one's  happiness  before 
her  own — and  all  that.  Probably  it  is  true.  I  say  nothing 
against  her.  But  to  bring  the  matter  back  to  yourself — for  I  be- 
lieve you're  hot-headed  enough  to  do  anything — what  would  you 
think  of  her  if  you  or  anybody  else  persuaded  her  to  do  such  a 
treacherous  thing  ?" 

"  She  is  not  capable  of  treachery,"  he  said,  somewhat  stiffly. 
"  If  you've  got  no  more  cheerful  things  to  talk  about,  you'd  bet- 
ter go  to  bed,  Jue.     I  shall  finish  my  cigar  by  myself," 

"Very  well,  then,  Harry.  You  know  your  room.  Will  you 
put  out  the  lamp  when  you  have  lit  your  candle  ?" 

So  she  went,  and  the  young  man  was  left  alone,  in  no  very  en- 
viable frame  of  mind.  lie  sat  and  smoked,  while  the  clock  on 
the  mantel-piece  swung  its  gilded  boy,  and  struck  the  hours  and 
half-hours  with  unheeded  regularity.     He  lit  a  second  cigar,  and 


174:  THREE    FEATHERS. 

a  third ;  he  forgot  the  wine ;  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  was  look- 
incr  on  all  the  roads  of  life  that  lay  before  him,  and  they  were  lit 
up  by  as  strange  and  new  a  light  as  that  which  was  beginning  to 
shine  over  the  world  outside.  Xew  fancies  seemed  to  awake  with 
the  new  dawn.  For  himself  to  ask  Wenna  Rosewame  to  be  his 
wife  ? — could  he  bnt  win  the  tender  and  shy  regard  of  her  eyes 
he  would  fall  at  her  feet  and  bathe  them  with  his  tears  I  And  if 
this  wonderful  thing  were  possible — if  she  could  put  her  hand  in 
his  and  trust  to  him  for  safety  in  all  the  coming  years  they  might 
live  together — what  man  of  woman  bom  would  dare  to  interfere ; 
There  was  a  blue  light  coming  in  through  the  shutters.  He  went 
to  the  window — the  topmost  leaves  of  the  trees  were  quivering  in 
the  cold  air,  far  up  there  in  the  clearing  skies,  where  the  stars 
were  fadingr  out  one  by  one.  And  he  could  hear  the  sound  of  the 
sea  on  the  distant  beach ;  and  he  knew  that  across  the  gray  plain 
of  waters  the  dawn  was  breaking,  and  that  over  the  sleeping  world 
another  dav  was  rising  that  seemed  to  him  the  first  day  of  a  new 
and  tremulous  life,  full  of  joy  and  courage  and  hope. 


CHAPTER  XXm. 

LOVE-MAKIXG    AT    LANTd's    EXD. 


"Abe  vou  dreamin£r  again,  child  '"  said  Mrs.  Rosewame  to  her 
dauo-hter.  "  You  are  not  a  fit  companion  for  a  sick  woman,  who 
is  herself  dull  enough.  "^Tiy  do  you  always  look  so  sad  when 
you  look  at  the  sea,  Wenna  ?" 

The  wan-faced,  beautiful-eyed  woman  lay  on  a  sofa,  a  book 
beside  her.  She  had  been  chatting  in  a  bright,  rapid,  desultory 
fashion  about  the  book  and  a  dozen  other  things  —  amusing  her- 
self really  bv  a  continual  stream  of  playful  talk  —  until  she  per- 
ceived that  the  girl's  fancies  were  far  away.  Then  she  stopped 
suddenly,  with  this  expression  of  petulant  but  good-natured  dis- 
appointment. 

"  Oh,  I  becf  vour  pardon,  mother,''  said  Wenna,  who  was  seated 
at  an  open  window  fronting  the  bay.  "  What  did  you  say  ?  "VMiy 
does  the  sea  make  one  sad  ?  I  don't  know.  One  feels  less  at 
home  here  than  out  on  the  rocks  at  EglosDyan ;  perhaps  that  is  it. 


i 


LOVE-MAKING    AT    LAND's    END.  175 

Or  tlie  place  is  so  beautiful  that  it  almost  makes  you  cry.  I  don't 
know." 

And,  indeed,  Penzance  Bay,  on  this  still,  clear  morning,  was 
beautiful  enough  to  attract  wistful  eyes  and  call  up  vague  and  dis- 
tant fancies.  The  cloudless  sky  was  intensely  dark  in  its  blue ; 
one  had  a  notion  that  the  unseen  sun  was  overhead  and  shining 
vertically  down.  The  still  plain  of  water — so  clear  that  the  shin- 
gle could  be  seen  through  it  a  long  way  out  —  had  no  decisive 
color ;  but  the  fishing-smacks  lying  out  there  were  jet-black  points 
in  the  bewildering  glare.  The  sunlight  did  not  seem  to  be  in  the 
sky,  in  the  air,  or  on  the  sea ;  but  when  you  turned  to  the  southern 
arm  of  the  bay,  where  the  low  line  of  green  hills  runs  out  into  the 
water,  there  you  could  see  the  strong  clear  light  shining — shining 
on  the  green  fields  and  on  the  sharp  black  lines  of  hedges,  on  that 
bit  of  gray  old  town  with  its  cottage-gardens  and  its  sea-wall,  and 
on  the  line  of  dark  rock  that  formed  the  point  of  the  promontory. 
On  the  other  side  of  the  bay,  the  eye  followed  the  curve  of  the 
level  shore,  until  it  caught  sight  of  St.  Michael's  Mount  rising 
palely  from  the  water,  its  sunlit  grays  and  purple  shadows  softened 
by  the  cool  distance.  Then  beyond  that  again,  on  the  verge  of 
the  far  horizon,  lay  the  long  and  narrow  line  of  the  Lizard,  half 
lost  in  a  silver  haze.  For  the  rest,  a  cool  wind  went  this  way  and 
that  through  Mrs.  Rosewarne's  room,  stirring  the  curtains.  There 
was  a  fresh  odor  of  the  sea  in  the  air.  It  was  a  day  for  dreaming, 
perhaps ;  but  not  for  the  gloom  begotten  of  languor  and  an  in- 
dolent pulse. 

"  Oh,  mother — oh,  mother !"  Wenna  cried,  suddenly,  with  a  flush 
of  color  in  her  cheeks.  "  Do  you  know  who  is  coming  along  ? 
Can  you  see?  It  is  Mr.  Trelyon,  and  he  is  looking  at  all  the 
houses ;  I  know  he  is  looking  for  us." 

"  Child,  child  !"  said  the  mother.  "  How  should  Mr.  Trelyon 
know  we  arc  here  ?" 

"  Because  I  told  him,"  Wenna  replied,  simply  and  hurriedly. 
"  Mother,  may  I  wave  a  handkerchief  to  him  ?  Won't  you  come 
and  see  him  ?  he  seems  so  much  more  manly  in  this  strange  place ; 
and  how  brave  and  handsome  he  looks !" 

"  Wenna !"  her  mother  said,  severely. 

The  girl  did  not  wave  a  handkerchief,  it  is  true ;  although  she 
knelt  down  at  the  open  bay  window,  so  that  he  must  needs  see 
her ;  and  sure  enough  he  did.     Off  went  his  hat  in  a  minute ;  a 


IVB  THREE    FEATHERS. 

briglit  look  of  recognition  leaped  to  his  eyes,  and  ho  crossed  the 
street.  Then  Wcnna  turned,  all  in  a  flutter  of  delight,  and  quite 
unconscious  of  the  color  in  her  face. 

"  Are  you  vexed,  mother  ?  Mayn't  I  be  glad  to  see  him  ?  Why, 
when  I  know  that  he  will  brighten  up  your  spirits  better  than  a 
dozen  doctors !  One  feels  quite  happy  and  hopeful  whenever  he 
comes  into  the  room.  Mother,  you  won't  have  to  complain  of 
dulness  if  Mr.  Trelyon  comes  to  see  you.  And  why  doesn't  the 
girl  send  him  up  at  once  ?" 

Wenna  was  standing  at  the  open  door  to  receive  him  when  he 
came  up-stairs ;  she  had  wholly  forgotten  the  embarrassment  of 
their  last  parting. 

"  I  thought  I  should  find  you  out,"  he  said,  when  he  came  into 
the  room,  and  it  was  clear  that  there  was  little  embarrassment  about 
him ;  "  and  I  know  how  your  mother  likes  to  be  teased  and  wor- 
ried. You've  got  a  nice  place  here,  Mrs.  Rosewarne ;  and  what 
splendid  weather  you've  brought  with  you  !" 

"  Yes,"  said  Wenna,  her  whole  face  lit  up  with  a  shy  gladness, 
"  haven't  we  ?  And  did  you  ever  see  the  bay  looking  more  beau- 
tiful ?  It  is  enough  to  make  you  laugh  and  clap  your  hands  out 
of  mere  delight  to  see  everything  so  lovely  and  fresh !" 

"A  few  minutes  ago  I  thought  you  were  nearly  crying  over  it," 
said  the  mother,  with  a  smile ;  but  Miss  Wenna  took  no  heed  of 
the  reproof.  She  would  have  Mr,  Trelyon  help  himself  to  a  tum- 
bler of  claret-and-water.  She  fetched  out  from  some  mysterious 
lodging-house  recess  an  ornamented  tin  can  of  biscuits.  She  ac- 
cused herself  of  being  the  dullest  companion  in  the  world,  and  in- 
directly hinted  that  he  might  have  pity  on  her  mamma  and  stay 
to  luncheon  with  them. 

"  Well,  it's  very  odd,"  he  said,  telling  a  lie  with  great  simplicity 
of  purpose,  "  but  I  had  arranged  to  drive  to  the  Land's  End  for 
luncheon — to  the  inn  there,  you  know.  I  suppose  it  wouldn't — 
do  you  think,  Mrs.  Rosewarnc — would  it  be  convenient  for  you  to 
come  for  a  drive  so  far  ?" 

"  Oh,  it  would  be  the  very  best  thing  in  the  Avorld  for  her 
— nothing  could  be  better,"  said  Wenna ;  and  then  she  added, 
meekly,  "  if  it  is  not  giving  you  too  much  trouble,  Mr.  Trelyon." 

He  laughed. 

"  Trouble  !  I'm  glad  to  be  of  use  to  anybody  ;  and  in  this  case 
I  shall  have  all  the  pleasure  on  my  side.     Well,  I'm  off  now  to 


LOVE-MAKING    AT    LANd's    END.  l77 

see  about  the  horses.  If  I  come  for  you  in  half  an  hour,  will  that 
do?" 

As  soon  as  he  had  left,  Mrs.  Rosewarne  turned  to  her  daughter, 
and  said  to  her,  gravely  enough — 

"  Wenna,  one  has  seldom  to  talk  to  you  about  the  proprieties ; 
but,  really,  this  seems  just  a  little  doubtful.  Mr.  Trelyon  may 
make  a  friend  of  you ;  that  is  all  very  well,  for  you  are  going  to 
marry  a  friend  of  his.  But  you  ought  not  to  expect  him  to  as- 
sociate with  me." 

"  Mother,"  said  Wenna,  with  hot  cheeks,  "  I  wonder  how  you 
can  suspect  hira  of  thinking  of  such  foolish  and  wicked  things. 
Why,  he  is  the  very  last  man  in  all  the  world  to  do  anything  that 
was  mean  and  unkind,  or  to  think  about  it." 

"  My  dear  child,  I  suspect  him  of  nothing,"  Mrs.  Rosewarne 
said ;  "  but  look  at  the  simple  facts  of  the  case.  Mr.  Trelyon  is  a 
very  rich  gentleman :  his  family  is  an  old  one,  greatly  honored 
about  here ;  and  if  he  is  so  recklessly  kind  as  to  offer  his  ac- 
quaintanceship to  persons  who  are  altogether  in  a  different  sphere 
of  life,  we  should  take  care  not  to  abuse  his  kindness,  or  to  let 
people  have  occasion  to  wonder  at  him.  Looking  at  your  mar- 
riage and  future  station,  it  is  perhaps  more  permissible  with  you ; 
but  as  regards  myself,  I  don't  very  much  care,  Wenna,  to  have 
Mr.  Trelyon  coming  about  the  house." 

"  Why,  mother,  I — I  am  surprised  at  you  !"  Wenna  said,  warm- 
ly. "You  judge  of  him  by  the  contemptible  things  that  other 
people  might  say  of  him.  Do  you  think  he  would  care  for  that  ? 
Mr.  Trelyon  is  a  man,  and  like  a  man  he  has  the  courage  to  choose 
such  friends  as  he  likes;  and  it  is  no  more  to  him  what  money 
they  have,  or  what  their  position  is,  than  the — than  the  shape  of 
their  pocket-handkerchiefs  is !  Perhaps  that  is  his  folly — reck- 
lessness— the  recklessness  of  a  young  man.  Perhaps  it  is.  I  am 
not  old  enough  to  know  how  people  alter ;  but  I  hope  I  shall 
never  see  Mr.  Trelyon  alter  in  this  respect — never,  if  he  were  to 
live  for  a  hundred  5''ears.  And — and  I  am  surprised  to  hear  you, 
of  all  people,  mother,  suggest  such  things  of  him.  What  has  he 
done  that  you  should  think  so  meanly  of  him  ?" 

Wenna  was  very  indignant  and  hurt.  She  would  have  contin- 
ued further,  but  that  a  tremulous  movement  of  her  under  lip  caused 
her  to  turn  away  her  head. 

"Well,  Wenna,  you  needn't  cry  about  it,"  lier  mother  said,  gcn- 

H2 


178  THREE    FEATHERS. 

tly.  "  It  is  of  no  great  consequence.  Of  course  every  one  must 
please  himself  in  choosing  his  friends ;  and  I  quite  admit  that  Mr. 
Trelyon  is  not  likely  to  be  hindered  by  anything  that  anybody 
may  say.  Don't  take  it  so  much  to  heart,  child ;  go  and  get  on 
your  things,  and  get  back  some  of  the  cheerfulness  you  had  while 
he  was  here.  I  will  say  that  for  the  young  man — that  he  has  an 
extraordinary  power  of  raising  your  spirits." 

"  You  are  a  good  mother  after  all,"  said  Wenna,  penitently ; 
"  and  if  you  come  and  let  me  dress  you  prettily,  I  shall  promise 
not  to  scold  you  again — not  till  the  next  time  you  deserve  it." 

By  the  time  they  drove  away  from  Penzance  the  forenoon  had 
softened  into  more  beautiful  colors.  There  was  a  paler  blue  in 
the  sky  and  on  the  sea,  and  millions  of  yellow  stars  twinkled  on 
the  ripples.  A  faint  haze  had  fallen  over  the  bright  green  hills 
lying  on  the  south  of  the  bay. 

*'  Life  looks  worth  having  on  such  a  day  as  this,"  Trelyon  said ; 
"  doesn't  it,  Miss  Wenna?" 

She  certainly  seemed  pleased  enough.  She  drank  in  the  sweet 
fresh  air;  she  called  attention  to  the  pure  rare  colors  of  the  sea 
and  the  green  uplands ;  the  coolness  of  the  woods  tlirough  which 
they  drove,  the  profuse  abundance  of  wild  flowers  along  the  banks 
— all  things  around  her  seemed  to  have  conspired  to  yield  her  de- 
light ;  and  a  great  happiness  shone  in  her  eyes.  Mr.  Trelyon  talked 
mostly  to  Mrs.  Rosewarne  ;  but  his  eyes  rarely  wandered  away  for 
long  from  Wenna's  pleased  and  radiant  face ;  and  again  and  again 
he  said  to  himself,  '^^And  if  a  simjole  drive  on  a  spring  morning  can 
give  this  child  so  great  a  delight,  it  is  not  the  last  that  she  and  I 
shall  have  together.^'' 

"  Mrs.  Rosewarne,"  said  he,  "I  think  your  daughter  has  as  much 
need  of  a  holiday  as  anybody.  I  don't  believe  there's  a  woman  or 
girl  in  the  county  works  as  hard  as  she  does." 

*'  I  don't  know  whether  she  needs  it,"  said  Miss  Wenna,  of  her- 
self, *'  but  I  know  that  she  enjoys  it." 

"  I  know  what  you'd  enjoy  a  good  deal  better  than  merely  get- 
ting out  of  sight  of  your  own  door  for  a  week  or  two,"  said  he. 
"  Wouldn't  you  like  to  get  clear  away  from  England  for  six  months, 
and  go  wandering  about  all  sorts  of  fine  places  ?  Why,  I  could 
take  you  such  a  trip  in  that  time !  I  should  like  to  sec  what  you'd 
say  to  some  of  the  old  Dutch  towns  and  their  churches,  and  all 
that ;  then  Cologne,  you  know,  and  a  sail  up  the  Rhine  to  Mainz ; 


LOVE-MAKING    AT    LANd's    END.  l79 

tlien  you'd  go  on  to  Basel  and  Geneva,  and  we'd  get  you  a  fine 
big  carriage,  with  tlie  horses  decorated  with  foxes'  and  pheasants' 
tails,  to  drive  you  to  Chamounix.  Then,  when  you  had  gone 
tremulously  over  the  Mer  de  Glace,  and  kept  your  wits  about  you 
going  down  the  Mauvais  Pas,  I  don't  think  you  could  do  better 
than  go  on  to  the  Italian  lakes  —  you  never  saw  anything  like 
them,  I'll  be  bound  —  and  Naples  and  Florence.  Would  you 
come  back  by  the  Tyrol,  and  have  a  turn  at  Zurich  and  Lucerne, 
with  a  ramble  through  the  Black  Forest  in  a  trap  resembling  a 
ramshackle  landau  ?" 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Wenna,  very  cheerfully.  "  The  sketch  is 
delightful ;  but  I  am  pretty  comfortable  where  I  am." 

"  But  this  can't  last,"  said  he. 

"  And  neither  can  my  holidays,"  she  answered. 

"  Oh,  but  they  ought  to,"  he  retorted  vehemently.  "  You  have 
not  half  enough  amusement  in  your  life — that's  my  opinion.  You 
slave  too  much  for  all  those  folks  about  Eglosilyan  and  their  doz- 
ens of  children.  Why,  you  don't  get  anything  out  of  life  as  you 
ought  to.  What  have  you  to  look  forward  to  ?  Only  the  same 
ceaseless  round  of  working  for  other  people.  Don't  you  think 
you  might  let  some  one  else  have  a  turn  at  that  useful  but  mo- 
notonous occupation  ?" 

"  But  Wenna  has  something  else  to  look  forward  to  now,"  her 
mother  reminded  him  gently ;  and  after  that  he  did  not  speak  for 
some  time. 

Fair  and  blue  was  the  sea  that  shone  all  around  the  land  when 
they  got  out  on  the  rough  moorland  near  the  coast.  They  drove 
to  the  solitary  little  inn  perched  over  the  steep  cliffs;  and  here 
the  horses  were  put  up  and  luncheon  ordered.  Would  Mrs.  Rose- 
warne  venture  down  to  the  great  rocks  at  the  promontory  ?  No, 
she  would  rather  stay  indoors  till  the  young  people  returned ;  and 
so  these  two  went  along  the  grassy  path  by  themselves. 

They  clambered  down  the  slopes,  and  Avent  out  among  the  huge 
blocks  of  weather-worn  granite,  many  of  which  were  brilliant  with 
gray,  green,  and  orange  lichens.  There  was  a  low  and  thunderous 
noise  in  the  air ;  far  below  them,  calm  and  fine  as  the  day  was, 
the  summer  sea  dashed  and  roared  into  gigantic  caverns,  while  the 
white  foam  floated  out  again  on  the  troubled  waves.  Could  any- 
thing have  been  more  magical  than  the  colors  of  the  sea  —  its 
luminous  greens,  its  rich  purples,  its  brilliant  blues,  lying  in  long 


180  THREE    FEATHERS.  . 

swathes  on  the  apparently  motionless  surface?  It  was  only  the 
seething  white  beneath  their  feet  and  the  hoarse  thunder  along 
the  coast  that  told  of  the  force  of  this  summer-like  sea ;  for  the 
rest  the  picture  was  light  and  calm  and  beautiful.  Out  there  the 
black  rocks  basked  in  the  sunlight,  the  big  skarts  standing  on  their 
ledges,  not  moving  a  feather,  A  small  steamer  was  slowly  mak- 
ing for  the  island  farther  out,  where  a  light-house  stood.  And 
far  away  beyond  these,  on  the  remote  horizon,  the  Scilly  Isles  lay 
like  a  low  bank  of  yellow  fog,  under  the  pale  blue  skies. 

They  were  very  much  by  themselves,  out  here  at  the  end  of  the 
world ;  and  yet  they  did  not  seem  inclined  to  talk  much.  AVenna 
sat  down  on  the  warm  grass ;  her  companion  perched  himself  on 
one  of  the  blocks  of  granite ;  they  watched  the  great  undulations 
of  the  blue  water  rolling  on  the  black  rocks,  and  then  falling  back- 
ward seething  in  foam. 

"And  what  are  you  thinking  about?"  said  Trelyon  to  her  gen- 
tly, so  that  she  should  not  be  startled. 

"  Of  nothing  at  all  —  I  am  quite  happy,"  Wenna  said  frankly. 
Then  she  added,  "  I  suppose  the  worst  of  a  day  like  this  is  that 
a  long  time  after  you  look  back  upon  it,  and  it  seems  so  beauti- 
ful and  far  away  that  it  makes  you  miserable.  You  think  how 
happy  you  were  once.  That  is  the  unfortunate  side  of  being 
happy." 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  I  must  say  you  don't  look  forward  to  the 
future  with  any  great  hope,  if  you  think  the  recollection  of  one 
bright  day  will  make  you  wretched." 

He  came  down  from  his  perch  and  stood  beside  her. 

"  Why,  Wenna,"  said  he,  "  do  you  know  what  you  really  need  ? 
Some  one  to  take  you  in  hand  thoroughly,  and  give  you  such  an 
abundance  of  cheerful  and  pleasant  days  that  you  would  never 
think  of  singling  out  any  one  of  them.  Why  shouldn't  you  have 
weeks  and  months  of  happy  idling  in  bright  weather,  such  as  lots 
of  people  have  who  don't  deserve  them  a  bit  ?  There's  something 
■wrong  in  your  position.  You  want  some  one  to  become  your 
master,  and  compel  you  to  make  yourself  happy.  You  won't  of 
yourself  study  your  own  comfort ;  some  one  else  ought  to  make 
you." 

"And  who  do  you  think  would  care  to  take  so  much  trouble 
about  me  ?"  she  said,  with  a  smile ;  for  she  attached  no  serious 
meaning  to  this  random  talk. 


LOVE-MAKING    AT    LANd's    END.  181 

Her  companion's  face  flushed  somewhat,  not  with  embarrass- 
ment, but  with  the  courage  of  what  he  w^as  going  to  say, 

"  I  would,"  he  said,  boldly.  "  You  will  say  it  is  none  of  my 
business ;  but  I  tell  you  I  would  give  twenty  thousand  pounds 
to-morrow  if  I  were  allowed  to — to  get  you  a  whole  summer  of 
pleasant  holidays." 

There  was  something  about  the  plain-spoken  honesty  of  this 
avowal  that  touched  her  keenly.  Wild  and  impossible  as  the 
suggestion  was,  it  told  her  at  least  what  one  person  in  the 
world  thought  of  her.  She  said  to  him,  with  her  eyes  cast 
down — 

"  I  like  to  hear  you  speak  like  that — not  for  my  own  sake 
— but  I  know  there  is  nothing  generous  and  kindly  that  you 
wouldn't  do  at  a  mere  moment's  impulse.  But  I  hope  you  don't 
think  I  have  been  grumbling  over  my  lot,  on  such  a  day  as 
this  ?  Oh  no ;  I  see  too  much  of  other  people's  ways  of  living 
to  complain  of  my  own.  I  have  every  reason  to  be  contented 
and  happy." 

"  Yes,  you're  a  deal  too  contented  and  happy,"  said  he,  with  an 
impatient  shrug.  "  You  want  somebody  to  alter  all  that,  and  see 
that  you  get  more  to  be  contented  and  happy  about." 

She  rose ;  he  gave  her  his  hand  to  help  her  up.  But  he  did  not 
surrender  her  hand  then,  for  the  path  up  the  slopes  was  a  steep 
and  difficult  one ;  and  she  could  fairly  rely  on  his  strength  and 
sureness  of  foot. 

"  But  you  are  not  content,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said.  "  I  always 
notice  that  whenever  you  get  to  a  dangerous  place  you  are  never 
satisfied  unless  you  are  putting  your  life  in  peril.  ^Youldn't  you 
like  to  ride  your  black  horse  down  the  face  of  this  precipice  ?  Or 
wouldn't  you  like  to  clamber  down  blindfold  ?  Why  does  a  man 
generally  seem  to  be  anxious  to  get  rid  of  his  life  ?" 

"  Perhaps  it  isn't  of  much  use  to  him,"  he  said,  coolly. 

"  You  ought  not  to  say  that,"  she  answered,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  I  don't  mean  to  break  my  neck  yet  awhile ; 
but  if  I  did,  who  would  miss  me  ?  I  suppose  my  mother  would 
play  half  a  dozen  a  day  more  operas  or  oratorios,  or  stuff  of  that 
sort,  and  there  would  be  twenty  parsons  in  the  house  for  one 
there  is  at  present.  And  some  of  the  brats  about  the  place  would 
miss  an  occasional  sixpence — which  would  be  better  for  their 
health.     And  Dick — I  suppose  they'd  sell  him  to  some  fool  of  a 


182  TIIREK    FEATHERS. 

Londoner,  wlio  would  pound  Lis  knees  out  in  the  Park — he  would 
miss  me  too." 

"  And  these  arc  all,"  she  said,  "  who  would  miss  you  ?  You  are 
kind  to  your  friends." 

"  Why,  would  you  ?"  he  said,  with  a  stare  of  surprise ;  and  then, 
seeing  she  would  not  speak,  he  continued  with  a  laugh,  "  I  like 
the  notion  of  my  making  an  object  of  general  compassion  of  my- 
self. Did  the  poor  dear  tumble  o£E  a  rock  into  the  sea?  And 
where  was  its  mother's  apron-string  ?  I'm  not  going  to  break  my 
neck  yet  awhile.  Miss  Wenna ;  so  don't  you  think  I'm  going  to 
let  you  ofi  your  promise  to  pay  me  back  for  those  sewing-ma- 
chines." 

"  I  have  told  you,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  with  some  dignity, 
"that  we  shall  pay  you  back  every  farthing  of  the  price  of 
them." 

He  began  to  whistle  in  an  impertinent  manner.  He  clearly 
placed  no  great  faith  in  the  financial  prospects  of  that  Sewing 
Club. 

They  had  some  light  luncheon  in  the  remote  little  inn,  and  Mrs. 
Rosewarne  was  pleased  to  see  her  ordinarily  demure  and  preoccu- 
pied daughter  in  such  high  and  careless  spirits.  It  was  not  a 
splendid  banquet.  Nor  was  the  chamber  a  gorgeous  one,  for  the 
absence  of  ornament  and  the  enormous  thickness  of  the  walls  told 
of  the  house  being  shut  up  in  the  winter  months  and  abandoned 
to  the  fury  of  the  western  gales,  when  the  wild  sea  came  hurling 
up  the  face  of  these  steep  cliffs  and  blowing  oxer  the  land.  But 
they  paid  little  attention  to  any  lack  of  luxury.  There  was  a 
beautiful  blue  sea  shining  in  the  distance,  the  sunlight  was  fall- 
ing hotly  on  the  greensward  of  the  rocks  outside,  and  a  fresh, 
cool  breeze  came  blowing  in  at  the  open  window.  They  let  the 
time  pass  easily,  with  pleasant  talk  and  laughter. 

Then  they  drove  leisurely  back  in  the  afternoon.  They  passed 
along  the  moorland  ways,  through  rude  little  villages  built  of 
stone,  and  by  the  outskirts  of  level  and  cheerless  farms,  until  they 
got  into  the  beautiful  woods  and  avenues  lying  around  Penzance. 
"When  they  came  in  sight  of  the  broad  bay,  they  found  that  the 
world  had  changed  its  colors  since  the  morning.  The  sea  was  of 
a  cold  purplish  gray ;  but  all  around  it,  on  the  eastern  horizon, 
there  Avas  a  band  of  pale  pink  in  the  sky.  On  the  west,  again, 
behind  Penzance,  the  warm  hues  of  the  sunset  were  shining  be- 


LOVE-MAKING    AT    LANd's    END.  183 

hind  the  black  stems  of  the  trees.  The  broad  thoroughfare  was 
mostly  in  shadow ;  and  the  sea  was  so  still  that  one  could  hear 
the  footsteps  and  the  voices  of  the  people  walking  up  and  down 
the  Parade. 

"  I  suppose  I  must  go  now,"  said  the  young  gentleman,  when 
he  had  seen  them  safely  seated  in  the  small  parlor  overlooking 
the  bay.     But  he  did  not  seem  anxious  to  go. 

"  But  why  go  ?"  Wenna  said,  rather  timidly.  "  You  have  no 
engagement,  Mr.  Trelyon.  Would  you  care  to  stay  and  have  din- 
ner with  us — such  a  dinner  as  we  can  give  you  ?" 

"  Well,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  should  like  it  very  much,"  he 
said. 

Mrs.  Rosewarne,  a  little  surprised,  and  yet  glad  to  see  Wenna 
enjoying  herself,  regarded  the  whole  affair  with  a  gentle  resigna- 
tion. Wenna  had  the  gas  lighted,  and  the  blinds  let  down ;  then, 
as  the  evening  was  rather  cold,  she  had  soon  a  bright  fire  burning 
in  the  grate.  She  helped  to  lay  the  table.  She  produced  such 
wines  as  they  had.  She  made  sundry  visits  to  the  kitchen  ;  and 
at  length  the  banquet  was  ready. 

What  ailed  the  young  man  ?  He  seemed  beside  himself  with 
careless  and  audacious  mirth ;  and  he  made  Mrs.  Rosewarne  laugh 
as  she  had  not  laughed  for  years.  It  was  in  vain  that  Wenna  as- 
sumed airs  to  rebuke  his  rudeness.  Nothing  was  sacred  from  his 
impertinence — not  even  the  offended  majesty  of  her  face.  And 
at  last  she  gave  in  too,  and  could  only  revenge  herself  by  saying 
things  of  him  Avhich,  the  more  severe  they  were,  the  more  he 
seemed  to  enjoy.  But  after  dinner  she  went  to  the  small  piano, 
while  her  mother  took  a  big  easy-chair  near  the  fire ;  and  he  sat 
by  the  table,  apparently  looking  over  some  books.  There  was  no 
more  reckless  laughter  then. 

In  ancient  times — that  is  to  say,  in  the  half-forgotten  days  of  our 
youth — a  species  of  song  existed  which  exists  no  more.  It  was  not 
as  the  mournful  ballads  of  these  days,  which  seem  to  record  the 
gloomy  utterances  of  a  strange  young  woman  who  has  apparently 
Avandered  into  the  magic  scene  in  "  Der  Frelschutz,"  and  who  mix- 
es up  the  moanings  of  her  passion  with  descriptions  of  the  sights 
and  sounds  she  there  finds  around  her.  It  was  of  quite  another 
stamp.  It  dealt  with  a  phraseology  of  sentiment  peculiar  to  itself 
— a  "  patter,"  as  it  were,  which  came  to  be  universally  recognized 
in  drawing-rooms.     It  spoke  of  maidens  plighting  their  troth,  of 


184  THREE    FEATHERS. 

Phyllis  cncliantinnr  hor  lovei-  ^vith  lier  varied  moods,  of  marble 
lialls  in  w'liicli  true  love  still  remained  the  same.  It  apostrophized 
the  shells  of  ocean ;  it  tenderly  described  the  three  great  crises  of 
a  particular  heroine's  life  by  mentioning  successive  head-dresses ; 
it  told  of  how  the  lover  of  Pretty  Jane  would  have  her  meet  him 
in  the  evening.  Well,  all  the  world  was  content  to  accept  this 
conventional  phraseology ;  and,  behind  the  paraphernalia  of  "  en- 
chanted moonbeams  "  and  "  fondest  glances"  and  "  adoring  sighs," 
perceived  and  loved  the  sentiment  that  could  find  no  simpler  ut- 
terance. Some  of  us,  hearing  the  half-forgotten  songs  again,  sud- 
denly forget  the  odd  language,  and  the  old  pathos  springs  up 
again,  as  fresh  as  in  the  days  when  our  first  love  had  just  come  home 
from  her  boarding-school ;  while  others,  who  have  no  old-stand- 
ing acquaintance  with  these  memorable  songs,  have  somehow  got 
attracted  to  them  by  the  mere  quaintness  of  their  speech  and  the 
simplicity  of  their  airs.  Master  Harry  Trelyon  was  no  great  critic 
of  music.  When  Wenna  Rosewarne  sang  that  night  "  She  wore 
a  wreath  of  roses,"  he  fancied  he  had  never  listened  to  anything 
so  pathetic.  When  she  sang  "  Meet  me  by  moonlight  alone,"  he 
was  delighted  with  the  spirit  and  half-humorous,  half-tender  grace 
of  the  composition.  As  she  sang  "  When  other  lips  and  other 
eyes,"  it  seemed  to  him  that  there  were  no  songs  like  the  old- 
fashioned  songs,  and  that  the  people  who  wrote  those  ballads 
were  more  frank  and  simple  and  touching  in  their  speech  than 
writers  nowadays.  Somehow,  he  began  to  think  of  the  drawing- 
rooms  of  a  former  generation  ;  and  of  the  pictures  of  herself  his 
grandmother  had  drawn  for  him  many  a  time.  Had  she  a  high 
waist  to  that  white  silk  dress  in  which  she  ran  away  to  Gretna ; 
and  did  she  have  ostrich  feathers  on  her  head  ?  Anyhow,  he  en- 
tirely believed  what  she  had  told  him  of  the  men  of  that  genera- 
tion. They  were  capable  of  doing  daring  things  for  the  sake  of 
a  sweetheart.  Of  course  his  grandfather  had  done  boldly  and 
well  in  whirling  the  girl  ofi  to  the  Scottish  borders ;  for  who 
could  tell  what  might  have  befallen  her  among  ill-natured  rela- 
tives and  persecuted  suitors? 

Wenna  Eosewarne  Avas  singing  "  We  met,  'twas  in  a  crowd, 
and  I  thought  he  would  shun  me."  It  is  the  song  of  a  girl  (must 
one  explain  so  much  in  these  later  days?)  who  is  in  love  with  one 
man,  and  has  been  induced  to  marry  another :  she  meets  the  for- 
mer, and  her  heart  is  filled  with  shame  and  anguish  and  remorse. 


THE    CUT    DIRECT.  185 

As  Wenna  sang  the  song,  it  seemed  to  tliis  young  man  that  there 
was  an  unusual  pathos  in  her  voice ;  and  he  was  so  carried  away 
by  the  earnestness  of  her  singing  that  his  heart  swelled  and  rose 
up  within  him,  and  he  felt  himself  ready  to  declare  that  such 
should  not  be  her  fate.  This  man  who  was  coming  back  to  mar- 
ry her — was  there  no  one  ready  to  meet  him  and  challenge  his 
atrocious  claim  ?  Then  the  song  ended ;  and,  with  a  sudden  dis- 
appointment, Trelyon  recollected  that  he  at  least  had  no  business 
to  interfere.     What  right  had  he  to  think  of  saving  her  ? 

He  had  been  idly  turning  over  some  volumes  on  the  table.  At 
last  he  came  to  a  Prayer-book,  of  considerable  size  and  elegance 
of  binding.  Carelessly  looking  at  the  fly-leaf,  he  saw  that  it  was 
a  present  to  Wenna  Rosewarne,  "  with  the  very  dearest  love  of 
her  sister  Mabyn."  He  passed  his  hand  over  the  leaves,  not 
noticing  what  he  was  doing ;  suddenly  he  saw  something  which 
effectually  startled  him  into  attention. 

It  was  a  sheet  of  paper  with  two  slits  cut  into  it  at  top  and  bot- 
tom. In  these  a  carefully  pressed  piece  of  None-so-pretty  had  been 
placed,  and  just  underneath  the  flower  was  written  in  pencil, "  From 
H.  T.  to  W.  R.,  May  2d,  18—."  He  shut  the  book  quickly,  as 
if  his  fingers  had  been  burned ;  and  then  he  sat  quite  silent,  with 
his  heart  beating  fast. 

So  she  had  kept  the  flower  he  had  put  in  the  basket  of  primroses. 
It  had  carried  its  message ;  and  she  still  remained  his  friend. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE     CUT     DIRECT. 


"Well,  mother,"  Miss  Wenna  said  deliberately,  after  he 
had  gone,  "  I  never  did  see  you  so  thoroughly  enjoy  a  whole 
day." 

"  I  was  thinking  the  same  about  you,  Wenna,"  the  mother  an- 
swered, Avitli  an  amused  look. 

"  That  is  true  enough,  mother,"  the  girl  confessed,  in  her  sim- 
ple way.  "  He  is  so  good-natured,  so  full  of  spirits,  and  careless, 
that  one  gets  quite  as  careless  and  happy  as  himself.  It  is  a 
great  comfort,  mother,  to  be  with  anybody  who  doesn't  Avatch  the 


186  THREE    FEATHERS. 

meaning  of  every  word  you  say — don't  you  tliink  so  ?  And  I 
hope  I  wasn't  rude — do  you  tliink  I  was  rude  ?" 

"  Why,  child,  I  don't  think  you  could  be  rude  to  a  fox  that  was 
eating  your  chickens.  You  would  ask  him  to  take  a  chair  and 
not  hurry  himself." 

"  Well,  I  must  write  to  Mabyn  now,"  Wenna  said,  with  a  busi- 
ness-like air,  "  and  thank  her  for  posting  me  this  Prayer-book.  I 
suppose  she  didn't  know  I  had  my  small  one  with  me." 

She  took  up  the  book,  for  she  was  sitting  on  the  chair  that 
Harry  Trelyon  had  just  vacated.  She  had  no  sooner  done  so  than 
she  caught  sight  of  the  sheet  of  paper  with  the  dried  flower  and 
the  inscription  in  Mabyn's  handwriting.  She  stared,  with  some- 
thing of  a  look  of  fear  on  her  face. 

"  Mother,"  she  said,  in  quite  an  altered  voice,  "  did  you  notice 
if  Mr.  Trelyon  was  looking  at  this  Prayer-book  ?" 

*'  I  don't  know,  I'm  sure,"  Mrs.  Rosewarne  said,  "  I  should  think 
he  went  over  every  book  on  the  table." 

The  girl  said  nothing ;  but  she  took  the  book  in  her  hand  and 
carried  it  up  to  her  own  room.  She  stood  for  a  moment  irreso- 
lute ;  then  she  took  the  sheet  of  paper  with  the  flowers  on  it,  and 
tore  it  in  a  hundred  pieces,  and  threw  them  into  the  empty  grate. 
Then  she  cried  a  little — as  a  girl  must ;  and  finally  went  down 
again  and  wrote  a  letter  to  Mabyn  which  rather  astonished  that 
young  lady. 

"  My  dear  Mabyn  " — so  the  letter  ran — "  I  am  exceedingly 
angry  with  you.  I  did  not  think  you  were  capable  of  such  folly 
— I  might  call  it  by  a  worse  name  if  I  thought  you  really  meant 
what  you  seem  to  mean.  I  have  just  torn  up  the  worthless  scrap 
of  flower  you  so  carefully  preserved  for  me  into  a  thousand  pieces ; 
but  you  Avill  be  glad  to  know  that  in  all  probability  Mr.  Trelyon 
saw  it  on  the  paper,  and  the  initials,  too,  which  you  put  there.  I 
cannot  tell  you  how  pained  and  angry  I  am.  If  he  did  place  that 
flower  intentionally  among  the  primroses,  it  was  most  impertinent 
of  him ;  but  he  is  often  impertinent  in  joking.  What  must  he 
think  of  me  that  I  should  seem  to  have  taken  this  seriously,  and 
treasured  up  that  miserable  and  horrid  piece  of  weed,  and  put  his 
initials  below  it,  and  the  important  date?  You  put  thoughts  into 
my  head  that  cover  me  Avith  shame.  I  should  not  be  fit  to  live  if 
I  were  Avhat  you  take  me  to  be  ?     If  I  thought  there  was  another 


THE    CUT    DIRECT.  187 

human  being  in  tlie  world  who  could  imagine  or  suspect  what  you 
apparently  desire,  I  would  resolve  this  moment  never  to  see  Mr. 
Trelyon  again  ;  and  much  harm  that  would  do  either  him  or  me ! 
But  I  am  too  proud  to  think  that  any  one  could  imagine  such  a 
thing.  Nor  did  I  expect  that  to  come  from  my  own  sister,  who 
ought  to  know  what  my  true  relations  are  with  regard  to  Mr.  Tre- 
lyon. I  like  him  very  much,  as  I  told  him  to  his  face  two  days 
before  we  left  Eglosilyan,  and  that  will  show  you  what  our  rela- 
tions are.  I  think  he  is  a  very  frank,  generous,  and  good  young 
man,  and  a  clever  and  cheerful  companion ;  and  my  mother  has  to- 
day to  thank  him  for  about  the  pleasantest  little  trip  she  has  ever 
enjoyed.  But  as  for  your  wishing  me  to  preserve  a  flower  that  he 
sent,  or  that  you  think  he  sent  to  me,  why,  I  feel  my  face  burn- 
ing at  the  thought  of  what  you  suggest.  And  what  can  I  say  to 
him  now,  supposing  he  has  seen  it  ?  Can  I  tell  him  that  my  own 
sister  thought  such  things  of  me  ?  Perhaps,  after  all,  the  simplest 
way  to  set  matters  right  will  be  for  me  to  break  oif  the  acquain- 
tance altogether ;  and  that  will  show  him  whether  I  was  likely  to 
have  treasured  up  a  scrap  of  London-pride  in  my  Prayer-book. 
"  I  am,  your  loving  sister, 

"Wenna  Eosewarne." 

Meanwhile,  Harry  Trelyon  was  walking  up  and  down  the  almost 
empty  thoroughfare  by  the  side  of  the  sea;  the  stars  overhead 
shining  clearly  in  the  dark  night,  the  dimly  seen  waves  falling 
monotonously  on  the  shelving  beach. 

"  To  keep  a  flower,  that  is  nothing,"  he  was  saying  to  him- 
self. "  All  girls  do  that,  no  matter  who  gives  it  to  them.  I 
suppose  she  has  lots  more,  all  with  the  proper  initials  and  date 
attached." 

It  was  hot  an  agreeable  reflection ;  he  turned  to  other  mat- 
ters. 

"  If  she  were  to  care  for  me  a  little  bit,  would  it  be  mean  of  me 
to  try  to  carry  her  off  from  that  man  ?  Is  it  possible  that  he  has 
the  same  regard  for  her  that  I  have  ?  In  that  case  it  would  be 
mean.  Now,  when  I  think  of  her,  the  whole  world  seems  filled 
with  her  presence  somehow,  and  everything  is  changed.  When  I 
hear  the  sea  in  the  morning,  I  think  of  her,  and  wonder  where  she 
is ;  when  I  see  a  fine  day,  I  hope  she  is  enjoying  it  somewhere ; 
the  whole  of  Penzance  has  become  magical.     It  is  no  longer  the 


188  THREE    FEATHERS. 

same  town.  I  used  to  come  to  it,  and  never  see  it,  in  the  old 
days,  when  one  was  busy  about  stables  and  the  pilchard-fishing 
and  the  reports  of  the  mines.  Now  the  whole  of  Penzance  has 
got  a  sort  of  charm  in  it,  since  Wenna  Rosewarne  has  come  to 
it.  I  look  at  the  houses,  and  wonder  if  the  people  inside  know 
anybody  fit  to  compare  with  her ;  and  one  becomes  grateful  to 
the  good  weather  for  shining  round  about  her  and  making  her 
happy.     I  suppose  the  weather  knows  what  she  deserves." 

Then  he  began  to  argue  the  question  as  to  whether  it  would  be 
fair  and  honorable  to  seek  to  take  away  from  another  man  the 
woman  who  had  pledged  herself  to  marry  him ;  and  of  course  an 
easy  and  definite  decision  is  sure  to  be  arrived  at  when  counsel  on 
both  sides,  and  jury,  and  judges  sitting  in  banco,  are  all  one  per- 
son, who  conducts  and  closes  the  case  as  it  suits  himself. 

He  began  by  assuming  such  facts  as  suited  his  arguments,  and 
ended  by  selecting  and  confirming  such  arguments  as  suited  him- 
self. Wenna  Rosewarne  cared  nothing  for  Mr.  Roscorla.  She 
would  be  miserable  if  she  married  him ;  her  own  sister  was  con- 
tinually hinting  as  much.  Mr.  Roscorla  cared  nothing  for  her  ex- 
cept in  so  far  as  she  might  prove  a  pretty  housewife  for  him. 
The  selfishness  that  would  sacrifice  for  its  own  purposes  a  girl's 
happiness  was  of  a  peculiarly  despicable  sort  which  ought  to  be 
combated,  and  deserved  no  mercy.  Therefore,  and  because  of  all 
these  things,  Harry  Trelyon  was  justified  in  trying  to  win  Wenna 
Rosewarne's  love. 

One  by  one  the  people  who  had  been  strolling  up  and  down  the 
dark  thoroughfare  left  it ;  he  was  almost  alone  now.  He  walked 
along  to  the  house  in  which  the  Rosewarnes  were.  There  was  no 
light  in  any  of  the  windows.  But  might  she  not  be  sitting  up 
there  by  herself,  looking  out  on  the  starlit  heavens  and  listening 
to  the  waves?  He  wished  to  be  able  to  say  good-night  to  her 
once  more. 

How  soon  would  she  be  up  and  out  on  the  morrow  ?  Early  in 
the  morning,  when  the  young  day  was  rising  over  the  gray  sea, 
and  the  sea-winds  coming  freshly  in  as  if  they  were  returning 
from  the  cold  night  ?  If  he  could  but  see  her  at  daybreak,  with 
all  the  world  asleep  around  them,  and  with  only  themselves  to 
watch  the  growing  wonders  of  the  dawn,  might  not  he  say  some- 
thing to  her  then  that  she  Avould  not  be  vexed  to  hear,  and  per- 
suade her  that  a  new  sort  of  life  lay  before  her  if  she  would  only 


THE    CUT    DIRECT.  189 

enter  it  along  with  him  ?  That  was  the  notion  that  ho  continu- 
ally dwelt  on  for  self-justification,  when  he  happened  to  take  the 
trouble  to  justify  himself.  The  crisis  of  this  girl's  life  was  ap- 
proaching. Other  errors  might  be  retrieved ;  that  one,  once  com- 
mitted, never.  If  he  could  only  see  her  now,  this  is  what  he 
would  say:  "TFe  can  only  live  but  once,Wenna ;  and  this  for  us 
two  would  be  life — our  only  chance  of  it.  Whatever  else  may  hap- 
pen, that  is  no  matter ;  let  us  make  sure  of  this  one  chance,  and 
face  the  future  together,  you  full  of  sxveetness  and  trust,  I  having 
plenty  of  courage  for  both.  We  will  treat  objectors  and  objections 
as  they  tnay  arise — afterivards  ;  perhaps  they  will  be  prudent  and 
keep  out  of  our  way."  And,  indeed,  he  convinced  himself  that 
this  was  Wenna  Rosewarne's  one  chance  of  securing  happiness  for 
her  life,  assuming,  in  a  way,  that  he  had  love,  as  well  as  courage, 
sufficient  for  both. 

He  was  early  up  next  morning,  and  down  on  the  promenade ; 
but  the  day  was  not  likely  to  tempt  AVenna  to  come  out  just  then. 
A  gray  fog  hung  over  land  and  sea ;  the  sea  itself  being  a  dull, 
leaden  plain.  Trelyon  walked  about,  however,  talking  to  every- 
body, as  was  his  custom  ;  and  everybody  said  the  fog  would  clear 
and  a  fine  day  follow.  This,  in  fact,  happened ;  and  still  Wenna 
did  not  make  her  appearance.  The  fog  over  the  sea  seemed  to 
separate  itself  into  clouds ;  there  Avas  a  dim,  yellow  light  in  the 
breaks.  These  breaks  widened ;  there  Avas  a  glimmer  of  blue. 
Then  on  the  leaden  plain  a  glare  of  white  light  fell,  twinkling  in 
innumerable  stars  on  the  water.  Everything  promised  a  clear, 
bright  day. 

As  a  last  resource,  he  thought  he  would  go  and  get  Juliott 
Penaluna,  and  persuade  that  young  lady  to  come  and  be  intro- 
duced to  the  Rosewarnes.  At  first  Miss  Penaluna  refused  point- 
blank.  She  asked  him  how  he  could  expect  her  to  do  such  a 
thing.  But  then  her  Cousin  Harry  happened  to  be  civil,  and  in- 
deed kind  in  his  manner  to  her ;  and  when  he  was  in  one  of  those 
moods  there  was  nothing  she  could  refuse  him.  She  went  and 
got  ready  with  an  air  of  resignation  on  her  comely  face. 

"  Mind,  Harry,  I  am.  not  responsible,"  she  said,  Avhcn  she  came 
back.     "  I  am  afraid  I  shall  get  into  awful  trouble  about  it." 

"  And  Avho  will  interfere  ?"  said  the  young  man,  just  as  if  he 
were  looking  about  for  some  one  anxious  to  be  thrown  from  the 
top  of  the  tower  on  St.  Michael's  Mount. 


190  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  I  shall  be  accused  of  conniving,  you  know  ;  and  I  think  I  am 
very  good-natured  to  do  so  much  for  you,  Harry." 

"  I  think  you  arc,  Jue ;  you  are  a  thoroughly  good  sort  of  girl 
when  you  like  to  be — that's  a  fact.  And  now  you  will  see  wheth- 
er what  I  have  said  about  Miss  Rosewarne  is  all  gammon  or  not." 

"  My  poor  boy,  I  wouldn't  say  a  word  against  her  for  the 
world.  Do  I  want  my  head  wrenched  off  ?  But  if  any  one  says 
anything  to  me  about  Avhat  I  may  do  to-day,  I  shall  have  to  tell 
the  truth  ;  and  do  you  know  what  that  is,  Harry  ?  I  do  really 
believe  you  are  in  love  with  that  girl,  past  all  argument ;  and  there 
never  was  one  of  your  family  who  would  listen  to  reason.  I  know 
quite  well  Avhat  you  will  do.  If  she  cares  ever  so  little  for  you, 
you  will  marry  her  in  spite  of  everybody,  and  probably  against 
lier  own  wish ;  if  she  doesn't  care  for  you,  you  will  revenge  your- 
self on  the  happy  man  of  her  choice,  and  probably  murder  him. 
Well,  it  isn't  my  fault.     I  know  what  your  mother  will  say — " 

"  Ah,  you  don't  know,  Jue,  what  my  mother  thinks  of  her," 
he  said  confidently. 

"  Oh  yes  ;  mothers  think  very  well  of  a  girl  until  they  discover 
that  she  is  going  to  marry  their  son." 

"  Oh,  stuff !  why,  the  inconsistency — " 

"  It  is  the  privilege  of  women  to  be  inconsistent,  Ilarry.  Your 
mother  will  detest  that  girl  if  you  try  to  marry  her," 

"  I  don't  care." 

"  Of  course  not.  No  man  of  your  family  cares  for  anything 
that  interferes  with  his  own  wishes.  I  suppose  there's  no  use  in 
my  trying  to  show  you  what  a  fearful  amount  of  annoyance  and 
trouble  you  are  preparing  for  yourself  ?" 

"  None ;  I'll  take  it  as  it  comes — I'm  not  afraid." 

They  got  down  to  the  promenade ;  the  forenoon  was  now  bright 
and  cheerful ;  a  good  many  folks  had  come  out  to  enjoy  the 
sunlight  and  the  cool  sea-breeze.  Miss  Juliott  was  not  at  all  dis- 
inclined to  walk  there  Avith  her  handsome  cousin,  though  he  had 
forgotten  his  gloves,  and  was  clearly  not  paying  her  very  special 
attention. 

"  Jue,"  he  said,  suddenly,  "  I  can  see  Miss  Rosewarne — right 
at  the  end  of  this  road — can't  you  ?" 

"  I  haven't  got  the  eyes  of  a  hawk,  you  stupid  boy,"  his  cousin 
said. 

"  Oh,  but  I  can  recognize  her  dress  a  dozen  times  as  far  away. 


THE    CUT    DIRECT.  191 

These  are  her  pet  colors  at  present — a  soft  cream-color  and  black, 
with  bits  of  dark  red — can  you  see  now  ?" 

"  I  never  before  saw  you  pay  the  least  attention  to  a  lady's 
dress." 

*'  Because  you  don't  know  how  she  dresses,"  he  said,  proudly. 

She  was  coming  along  the  parade,  all  alone. 

"  Well,  it  is  a  pretty  dress,"  Miss  Juliott  said,  "  and  I  like  the 
look  of  her  face,  Harry.  You  can't  expect  one  girl  to  say  any 
more  than  that  of  another  girl,  can  you  ?" 

"  This  is  a  very  nice  way  of  being  able  to  introduce  you,"  he 
said.  "  I  suppose  you  will  be  able  to  chaperon  each  other  after- 
wards, when  her  mother  can't  go  out  ?" 

Wenna  was  coming  quietly  along,  apparently  rather  preoccu- 
pied. Sometimes  she  looked  out,  with  her  dark,  earnest,  and  yet 
wistful  eyes,  at  the  great  plain  of  water  quivering  in  the  sunshine ; 
she  paid  little  heed  to  the  people  who  Avent  by.  When,  at  length, 
she  did  see  Harry  Trelyon,  she  was  quite  near  him,  and  she  had 
just  time  to  glance  for  a  moment  at  his  companion.  The  next 
moment — he  could  not  tell  how  it  all  happened — she  passed  him 
with  a  slight  bow  of  recognition,  courteous  enough,  but  nothing 
more.     There  was  no  especial  look  of  friendliness  in  her  eyes. 

He  stood  there,  rather  bewildered. 

"  That  is  about  as  good  as  the  cut  direct,  Harry,"  his  cousin 
said.     "  Come  along — don't  stand  there." 

"  Oh,  but  there's  some  mistake,  Jue,"  he  said. 

"A  girl  never  does  a  thing  of  that  sort  by  mistake.  Either 
she  is  vexed  with  you  for  walking  with  me — and  that  is  improb- 
able, for  I  doubt  whether  she  saw  me — or  she  thinks  the  ardor 
of  your  acquaintance  should  be  moderated,  and  there  I  should 
agree  with  her.  You  don't  seem  so  vexed  as  one  might  have  ex- 
pected, Harry." 

"  Vexed !"  he  said.  "  Why,  can't  you  tell  by  that  girl's  face 
that  she  could  do  nothing  capricious  or  unkind  ?  Of  course  she 
has  a  reason ;  and  I  will  find  it  out." 


192  THREE    FEATUERS. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

NOT     THE     LAST     WORD. 

As  soon  as  he  could  decently  leave  his  cousin  at  home,  he  did ; 
and  then  he  -walked  hastily  down  to  the  house  in  which  Mrs. 
Rosewarnc  had  taken  rooms.  Miss  Rosewarne  was  not  at  home, 
the  small  maid-servant  said.  "Was  Mrs.  Rosewarne  ?  Yes ;  so  he 
would  see  her. 

He  went  up-stairs,  never  thinking  how  his  deep  trouble  about 
so  insignificant  an  incident  would  strike  a  third  person. 

"  Mrs.  Rosewarne,"  he  said,  right  out,  "  I  want  you  to  tell  me 
if  Wenna  wishes  our  acquaintance  to  end.  Has  she  been  speak- 
ing to  you  ?  Just  now  she  passed  me  in  the  street  as  if  she  did 
not  wish  to  see  me  again." 

"Probably,"  replied  Mrs.  Rosewarne,  amused  as  well  as  sur- 
prised by  the  young  man's  impetuosity,  "  she  did  not  see  you, 
then.  Wenna  often  passes  people  so.  Most  likely  she  was  think- 
ing about  other  things ;  for  she  had  another  letter  from  Jamaica 
just  before  she  went  out." 

"  Oh,  she  has  had  another  letter  from  Jamaica  this  morning !" 
Trclyon  said,  with  an  angry  light  appearing  in  his  eyes.  "  That 
is  it,  is  it  ?" 

*'  I  don't  understand  you,"  Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  saying,  when 
both  of  them  heard  "Wenna  enter  below. 

"  Mrs.  Rosewarne,"  he  said,  with  a  sudden  entreaty  in  his  voice, 
"  would  you  mind  letting  me  see  Wenna  alone  for  a  couple  of 
minutes?  I  want  to  ask  her  if  she  is  offended  with  me — you 
won't  mind,  will  you  ?" 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  she  said,  good-naturedly ;  and  then  she 
added,  at  the  door,  "  Mind,  Mr.  Trclyon,  Wenna  is  easily  hurt. 
You  must  speak  gently  to  her." 

About  a  minute  afterwards,  Wenna,  having  laid  her  hat  and 
shawl  aside,  came  into  the  room.  When  she  found  Trclyon  there, 
alone,  she  almost  shrank  back,  and  her  face  paled  somewhat; 


KOT    THE    LAST    WORD.  193 

then  she  forced  herself  to  go  forward  and  shake  hands  with  him, 
though  her  face  still  wore  a  frightened  and  constrained  look. 

"  Wenna,"  he  said,  "  don't  go  away.  I  want  to  speak  to  you 
for  a  minute.  You  are  offended  with  me  about  something,  and 
I  want  you  to  tell  me  why.  If  you  wish  our  friendship  to  cease, 
say  so,  and  I  will  obey  you ;  but  you  must  tell  me  why  first." 

"  I  am  not  offended  Avith  you,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  in  a  low 
and  nervous  voice.  "  Do  not  think  that.  But — but  I  think  it  will 
be  better  if  you  will  let  our  friendship  cease,  as  you  say." 

For  a  second  he  stared :  then  something  of  firmness  came  about 
his  mouth. 

"  Oh  no,"  he  said,  "  I  will  not,  in  this  fashion.  You've  got 
to  tell  me  what  is  the  matter  first.  Now  remember  this.  Not 
very  long  ago  you  chose  to  quarrel  with  me  about  nothing — ab- 
solutely about  nothing.  You  know  quite  well  that  I  meant  no 
harm  to  you  by  lending  Mr.  Roscorla  that  money ;  yet  you  must 
needs  flare  up  and  give  it  me  as  hot  as  you  could,  all  for  noth- 
ing. What  could  I  do  ?  Why,  only  wait  until  you  saw  what  a 
mistake  you  had  made." 

"  It  was  very  wrong  of  me,"  she  said.  "  I  ask  your  forgive- 
ness. But  now  it  is  quite  different.  I  am  not  angry  Avith  you 
at  all.  I  should  like  to  remain  your  friend ;  and  yet  I  think  it 
better  not.  I — I  cannot  explain  to  you,  Mr.  Trelyon ;  and  I  am 
sure  you  won't  ask  me,  when  I  say  so." 

He  looked  at  her  for  a  moment,  and  then  he  said,  gently  and 
yet  firmly — 

"  Look  here,  Wenna.  You  think  I  am  only  a  boy.  That  may 
or  may  not  be ;  but  I  am  going  to  talk  reasonably  to  you  for 
once.     Come  over  to  this  chair  by  the  window,  and  sit  down." 

She  followed  him  in  passive  obedience.  She  took  the  one 
chair,  he  the  other. 

"  Perhaps  I  am  only  a  boy,"  he  said ;  "  but  I  have  knocked 
about  a  good  deal,  and  I  have  kept  my  eyes  as  wide  open  as  most 
folks.  I  suppose  ill-natured  people  might  say  that,  as  I  had 
nothing  to  do  at  Eglosilyan,  I  wanted  to  have  a  flirtation  with 
the  only  girl  who  was  handy.  I  know  better.  Year  after  year 
I  saw  more  and  more  of  you,  bit  by  bit ;  and  that  after  I  had 
been  abroad  or  living  in  other  places  in  England  from  time  to 
time.  I  got  to  believe  that  I  had  never  seen  anywhere  any  girl 
or  woman  who  was  so  honest  as  you  are,  and  good  in  a  dozen 

I 


194  TIIUEE    FEATHERS. 

secret  ways  that  needed  a  deal  of  discovering.  I  found  out  far 
more  about  you  than  you  imagined.  I  heard  of  you  in  cottages 
that  you  never  knew  I  was  in ;  and  everything  I  heard  made  me 
respect  you  more  and  more.  Mind  this,  too.  I  had  no  sort  of 
personal  liking  for  the  sort  of  thing  you  were  doing.  I  don't 
admire  muggy  little  rooms,  and  poverty  and  sick  people,  as  ap- 
pealing to  a  fine  sentiment.  There  never  was  anything  of  the 
parson  or  of  the  benevolent  old  lady  about  me.  I  would  rather  give 
half  a  crown  to  an  impertinent  little  school-boy  who  had  just 
whopped  another  boy  bigger  than  himself  than  give  a  half-penny 
tract  to  a  sickly  infant  in  its  mother's  arms ;  that's  original  sin 
in  me,  I  suppose.  But  all  that  squalid  sort  of  work  you  were  in 
only  made  the  jewel  shine  the  more.  I  used  to  think  I  should 
like  to  marry  a  very  grand  woman,  who  could  be  presented  at 
Court  without  a  tremor,  who  would  come  into  a  drawing-room  as 
if  she  were  conferring  a  favor  on  the  world  at  large ;  and  I  cer- 
tainly never  thought  I  should  find  the  best  woman  I  had  ever 
seen  in  back-kitchens  sewing  pinafores  for  children.  And  then, 
when  I  found  her  there,  wasn't  it  natural  I  should  put  some  store 
by  her  friendship  ?  I  suppose  you  didn't  know  what  I  thought 
of  you,  Wenna,  because  I  kept  chaffing  you  and  Mabyn  ?  1  have 
told  you  something  of  it  now  ;  and  now  I  want  you  to  say  wheth- 
er you  have  a  right  to  shunt  me  ofE  like  this  without  a  word  of 
explanation," 

She  sat  quite  still,  silent  and  nervous.  The  rude  and  impetu- 
ous eloquence  of  his  speech,  broken  by  many  a  hesitating  stam- 
mer, had  touched  her.  There  was  more  thoughtfuluess  and  ten- 
derness in  this  wild  lad  than  she  had  supposed. 

"How  can  I  explain?"  she  burst  out,  suddenly.  "I  should 
cover  myself  with  shame  !" 

"And  Avhat  have  you  to  be  ashamed  of?"  he  said,  with  a 
stare. 

The  distress  she  was  obviously  suffering  was  so  great  that  he 
had  almost  a  mind  to  take  her  at  her  Avord,  and  leave  the  house 
without  further  ado.  Just  at  this  moment,  when  he  was  consid- 
ering what  would  be  the  most  generous  thing  to  do,  she  seemed 
to  nerve  herself  to  speak  to  him,  and  in  a  low  and  measured  vfeice 
she  said — 

"  Yes,  I  will  tell  you.  I  have  had  a  letter  this  morning  from 
Mr.  Roscorla.     He  asks  me  if  it  is  true  that  you  are  paying  me 


NOT    THE    LAST    WORD.  195 

such  attention  tliat  people  notice  it ;  and  he  asts  me  if  that  is  how 
I  keep  my  promise  to  him." 

Something  like  a  quiver  of  rage  passed  through  the  young  man 
at  this  moment,  but  his  teeth  were  kept  firmly  together.  She 
did  not  look  up  to  his  face, 

"  That  is  not  all.  I  must  tell  you  that  I  was  deeply  shocked 
and  grieved  by  this  letter ;  byt  on  looking  back  over  the  j)ast  six 
weeks  I  think  a  suspicious  person  might  have  been  justified  in 
complaining  to  Mr.  Roscorla.  And — and — and,  Mr.  Trelyon,  did 
you  see  that  dried  flower  in  my  Prayer-book  last  night  ?" 

Her  resolution  was  fast  ebbing  away ;  he  could  see  that  her 
hands  were  clasped  piteously  together. 

"  Yes,  I  did,"  he  said,  boldly. 

"  And  oh  !  what  could  you  have  thought  of  mc  !"  she  cried,  in 
her  distress.  "  Indeed,  Mr.  Trelyon,  it  was  all  a  mistake.  I  did 
not  keep  the  flower — I  did  not,  indeed.  And  when  I  thought 
you  had  seen  it,  I  could  have  died  for  shame." 

"  And  why  ?"  he  said,  in  a  way  that  made  her  lift  up  her  star- 
tled eyes  to  his  face.  There  was  a  strange  look  there,  as  of  a  man 
who  had  suddenly  resolved  to  dare  his  fate.  "  For  you  have  been 
frank  with  me,  and  so  will  I  be  with  you.  Why  should  you  not 
have  kept  that  flower?  Yes,  I  sent  it  to  you;  and  with  all  the 
purpose  that  such  a  thing  could  carry.  Yes,  you  may  be  as  angry 
as  you  please  ;  only  listen,  Wenna.  You  don't  love  that  man 
whom  you  are  engaged  to  maiTy ;  you  know  in  your  heart  that 
you  do  not  believe  in  his  love  for  you ;  and  are  you  surprised  that 
people  should  wish  to  have  you  break  off  an  engagement  that  will 
only  bring  you  misery  ?" 

"  Mr.  Trelyon !" 

"Wenna,  one  minute — you  must  hear  mc.  Do  with  my  offer 
what  you  like — only  here  it  is:  give  me  the  power  to  break  off 
this  engagement,  and  I  will.  Give  me  the  right  to  do  that! 
Don't  mind  me  in  the  matter.  It  is  true  I  love  you — there,  I 
will  say  it  again  :  there  is  nothing  I  think  of  from  morning  till 
night  but  my  love  for  you ;  and  if  you  would  say  that  some  time 
I  might  ask  you  to  be  my  wife,  you  would  give  me  more  happi- 
ness than  you  could  dream  of.  But  I  don't  wish  that  now.  I 
will  remain  your  friend,  if  you  like,  Wenna;  only  let  me  do  this 
thing  for  vou ;  and  when  you  are  free,  you  can  then  say  Yes  or 
No." 


196  THREE    FEATHERS. 

She  rose,  not  proud  and  indignant,  but  weeping  bitterly. 

"  I  have  deserved  this,"  she  said,  apparently  overwhelmed  with 
mortification  and  self-reproach.  "  I  have  earned  this  shame,  and 
I  must  bear  it.  I  do  not  blame  you,  Mr.  Trelyon — it  is  I  who 
have  done  this.  How  many  weeks  is  it  since  the  man  left  Eng- 
land to  whom  I  promised  to  be  faithful?  and  already — but  this 
I  can  do,  Mr.  Trelyon :  I  will  bid  .you  good-bye  now,  and  I  will 
never  see  you  again." 

Her  face  was  quite  pale.     She  held  out  her  hand. 

"  No,"  he  said  firmly.  "  We  do  not  part  like  that,  Wenna. 
First,  let  me  say  that  you  have  nothing  to  accuse  yourself  of. 
You  have  done  nothing,  and  said  nothing,  of  Avhich  any  man, 
however  mean  and  suspicious,  could  complain.  Perhaps  I  was 
too  hasty  in  speaking  of  my  love  for  you.  In  that  case  I've  got 
to  pay  for  my  folly." 

"  And  it  is  folly,  Mr.  Trelyon  !"  she  said,  passionately,  and  yet 
with  nothing  but  tenderness  in  her  face.  "  How  could  you  have 
thought  of  marrying  me  ?  Why,  the  future  that  ought  to  lie  be- 
fore you  is  far  more  than  you  can  imagine  yet ;  and  you  would 
go  and  hamper  it  by  marrying  an  innkeeper's  daughter!  It  is 
folly,  indeed ;  and  you  Avill  see  that  very  soon.  But — but  I  am 
very  sorry  all  this  has  occurred ;  it  is  another  grief  to  me  that  I 
have  troubled  you.  I  think  I  was  born  to  bring  grief  to  all  my 
friends." 

He  was  anxiously  debating  what  he  should  do ;  and  he  needed 
all  his  wits  at  that  moment,  for  his  own  feelings  were  strong 
Avithin  him,  and  clamoring  for  expression.  Would  he  insist? 
Would  he  bear  down  all  opposition?  Happily,  quieter  counsels 
prevailed ;  for  there  was  no  mistaking  the  absolute  truthfulness 
of  what  the  girl  had  said. 

"  Well,  Wenna,"  he  said,  "  I  will  do  anything  you  like,  only  to 
remain  your  friend.  Is  that  possible  ?  Will  you  forgive  all  that 
I  have  said  if  I  make  you  a  promise  not  to  repeat  it,  and  never 
again  to  mention  your  engagement  to  Mr.  Roscorla  ?" 

"  No,  we  must  part  now  altogether,"  she  said  slowly.  Then, 
by  haphazard,  she  glanced  up  at  his  face  for  a  moment,  and  there 
was  a  great  sadness  in  her  eyes,  "It  is  a  hard  thing  to  part. 
Perhaps  it  will  not  be  necessary  that  you  should  never  come  to 
see  me.  But  we  must  not  be  friends  as  we  have  been ;  for  I  have 
my  duty  to  do  towards  him." 


NOT    THE    LAST    WORD.  197 

"  Then  I  may  come  to  see  you  sometimes  ?" 

She  hesitated. 

"You  may  come  to  see  my  mother  sometimes.  And  I  will 
always  think  of  you  as  a  dear  friend,  whether  I  see  you  or  not." 

He  went  outside,  and  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  I  had  to  keep  a  tight  grip  on  the  reins  that  time,"  he  was 
thinking  to  himself ;  "  a  precious  tight  grip  ;  but  I  did  it." 

He  thought  of  the  look  there  was  in  her  eyes  when  she  finally 
bid  him  good-bye.  His  face  grew  the  happier  as  he  thought  of 
it.  He  was  clearly  not  at  all  downhearted  about  his  rejection ; 
on  the  contrary,  he  went  and  told  his  Cousin  Juliott  that  the  little 
affair  of  the  morning  had  been  quite  satisfactorily  arranged ;  that 
Miss  Wenna  and  he  were  very  good  friends  again  ;  and  that  it  was 
quite  a  mistake  to  imagine  that  she  was  already  manied  to  Mr. 
Roscorla. 

"  Harry,"  said  his  cousin,  "  I  strictly  forbid  you  to  mention 
that  gentleman's  name." 

"  iVhy,  Jue  ?"  he  said. 

"  Because  I  will  not  listen  to  the  bad  language  you  invariably 
use  whenever  you  speak  of  him  ;  and  you  ought  to  remember 
that  you  are  in  a  clergyman's  house.  I  wonder  Miss  Rosewarne 
is  not  ashamed  to  have  your  acquaintance ;  but  I  dare  say  you 
amend  your  ways  when  you  are  in  her  presence.  She'll  have 
plenty  to  reform  if  ever  she  takes  you  for  a  husband." 

"  That's  true  enough,  Jue,"  the  young  man  said,  penitently. 
"  I  believe  I'm  a  bad  lot ;  but  then,  look  at  the  brilliant  contrast 
which  the  future  will  present.  You  know  that  my  old  grand- 
mother is  always  saying  to  me,  '  Harry,  you  were  born  with  as 
many  manners  as  most  folks ;  and  you've  used  none ;  so  you'll 
have  a  rare  stock  to  come  and  go  on  when  you  begin.' " 


198  THREE    FEATHERS. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

A     PERILOUS     TRUCE. 

The  very  stars  in  their  courses  seemed  to  fight  for  this  young 
man. 

No  sooner  had  AVenna  Eosewarne  fled  to  her  own  room,  there 
to  think  over  in  a  wild  and  bewildered  way  all  that  had  just  hap- 
pened, than  her  heart  smote  her  sorely.  She  had  not  acted  pru- 
dently. She  had  forgotten  her  self-respect.  She  ought  to  have 
forbidden  him  to  come  near  her  again — at  least  until  such  time 
as  this  foolish  fancy  of  his  should  have  passed  away  and  been 
forgotten. 

How  could  she  have  parted  with  him  so  calmly,  and  led  him  to 
suppose  that  their  former  relations  were  unaltered?  She  looked 
back  on  the  forced  quietude  of  her  manner,  and  was  herself  as- 
tonished. Now  her  heart  was  beating  rapidly ;  her  trembling 
fingers  were  unconsciously  twisting  and  untwisting  a  bit  of  rib- 
bon ;  her  head  seemed  giddy  with  the  recollection  of  that  brief 
and  strange  interview.  Then,  somehow,  she  thought  of  the  look 
on  his  face  when  she  told  him  that  henceforth  they  must  be 
strangers  to  each  other.  It  seemed  hard  that  he  should  be  badly 
used  for  what  was,  perhaps,  no  intentional  fault.  If  anybody  had 
been  in  fault,  it  was  herself,  in  being  blind  to  a  possibility  to 
which  even  her  own  sister  had  drawn  her  attention ;  and  so  the 
punishment  ought  to  fall  on  her. 

She  would  humble  herself  before  Mr.  Roscorla.  She  would 
force  herself  to  be  affectionate  towards  him  in  her  letters.  She 
would  even  write  to  Mabyn,  and  beg  of  her  to  take  no  notice  of 
that  angry  remonstrance. 

Then  Wenna  thought  of  her  mother,  and  how  she  ought  to  tell 
her  of  all  these  things.  But  how  could  she  ?  During  the  past 
day  or  two  Mrs.  Rosewarne  had  been  at  times  singularly  fretful 
and  anxious.  No  letter  had  come  from  her  husband.  In  vain 
did  Wenna  remind  her  that  men  were  more  careless  of  such  small 
matters  than  women,  and  that  it  was  too  soon  to  expect  her  father 


A    PERILOUS    TRUCE.  199 

to  sit  down  and  write.  Mrs.  Rosewarne  sat  brooding  over  licr 
husband's  silence ;  then  she  would  get  up  in  an  excited  fashion 
and  declare  her  intention  of  going  straight  back  to  Eglosilyan ; 
and  these  fitful  moods  preyed  on  the  health  of  the  invalid.  Ought 
Wenna  to  risk  increasing  her  anxiety  by  telling  her  this  strange 
tale  ?  She  would  doubtless  misunderstand  it.  She  might  be  an- 
gry with  Harry  Trelyon.  She  would  certainly  be  surprised  that 
Wenna  had  given  him  permission  to  see  her  again — not  knowing 
that  the  girl,  in  her  forced  composure,  had  been  talking  to  him  as 
if  this  avowal  of  his  were  of  no  great  moment. 

All  the  same  Wenna  had  a  secret  fear  that  she  had  been  im- 
prudent in  giving  him  this  permission ;  and  the  most  she  could 
do  now  was  to  make  his  visits  as  few,  short,  and  ceremonious  as 
possible.  She  would  avoid  him  by  every  means  in  her  power; 
and  the  first  thing  was  to  make  sure  that  he  should  not  call  on 
them  again  while  they  remained  in  Penzance. 

So  she  went  down  to  the  small  parlor  in  a  much  more  equable 
frame  of  mind,  though  her  heart  was  still  throbbing  in  an  un- 
usual way.  The  moment  she  entered  the  room  she  saw  that 
something  had  occurred  to  disturb  her  mother.  Mrs.  Rosewarne 
turned  from  the  window,  and  there  was  an  excited  look  in  her 
eyes. 

"Wenna,"  she  said,  hurriedly,  "did  you  sec  that  carriage? 
Did  you  see  that  woman  ?  Who  was  Avith  her  ?  Did  you  see 
who  was  with  her  ?  I  know  it  was  she — not  if  I  live  a  hundred 
years  could  I  forget  that — that  devil  in  human  shape !" 

"  Mother,  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  Wenna  said,  wholly 
aghast. 

Iler  mother  had  gone  to  the  window  again,  and  she  was  saying 
to  herself,  hurriedly,  and  in  a  low  voice — 

"  No,  you  don't  know ;  you  don't  know — why  should  you  know  ? 
That  shameless  creature  !  And  to  drive  by  here — she  must  have 
known  I  was  here.     Oh,  the  shamelessness  of  the  woman  !" 

She  turned  to  Wenna  again. 

"  Wenna,  I  thought  Mr.  Trelyon  was  here.  How  long  has  lie 
been  gone  ?  I  want  to  see  him  most  particularly — most  particu- 
larly, and  only  for  a  moment.  He  is  sure  to  know  all  the  strangers 
at  his  hotel,  is  he  not?  I  want  to  ask  him  some  questions — 
Wenna,  will  you  go  at  once  and  bid  him  come  to  see  me  for  a 
moment  ?" 


200  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"Mother!"  Wenna  said — tow  could  she  go  to  the  hotel  with 
such  a  message  ? 

"  Well,  send  a  note  to  him,  Wcnna — send  a  note  by  the  girl 
down-stairs.     "What  harm  is  there  in  that  ?" 

"  Lie  down  then,  mother,"  said  the  girl  calmly,  "  and  I  will 
send  a  message  to  Mr.  Trelyon." 

She  drew  her  chair  to  the  table,  and  her  cheeks  crimsoned  to 
think  of  what  he  might  imagine  this  letter  to  mean  when  he  got 
the  envelope  in  his  hands.  Her  fingers  trembled  as  she  wrote  the 
date  at  the  head  of  the  note.  Then  she  came  to  the  word  "  Dear," 
and  it  seemed  to  her  that  if  shame  were  a  punishment,  she  was 
doing  sufficient  penance  for  her  indiscretion  of  that  morning. 
Yet  the  note  was  not  a  compromising  one.  It  merely  said, 
"  Dear  Mr.  Trelyon, — If  you  have  a  moment  to  spare,  my  mother 
would  be  most  obliged  to  you  if  you  would  call  on  her.  I  hope 
you  will  forgive  the  trouble. — Yours  sincerely,  Wenna  Rosewarne." 

When  the  young  man  got  that  note — he  was  just  entering  the 
hotel  when  the  servant  arrived — he  stared  with  surprise.  He  told 
the  girl  he  would  call  on  Mrs.  Kosewarne  directly.  Then  he  fol- 
lowed her. 

He  never  for  a  moment  doubted  that  this  note  had  reference 
to  his  ov.n  affairs.  Wenna  liad  told  her  mother  what  had  hap- 
pened. The  mother  wished  to  see  him  to  ask  him  to  cease  visit- 
ing them.  Well,  he  was  prepared  for  that.  He  would  ask  Wenna 
to  leave  the  room.  He  would  attack  the  mother  boldly,  and  tell 
her  what  he  thought  of  Mr.  Roscorla,  He  would  appeal  to  her 
to  save  her  daughter  from  the  impending  marriage.  He  would 
win  her  over  to  be  his  secret  ally  and  friend;  and  while  nothing 
should  be  done  precipitately  to  alarm  Wenna  or  arouse  her  sus- 
picions, might  not  these  two  carry  the  citadel  of  her  heart  in 
time,  and  hand  over  the  keys  to  the  rightful  lord?  It  was  a 
pleasant  speculation ;  it  was  at  least  marked  by  that  audacity 
that  never  Avholly  forsook  Master  Harry  Trelyon.  Of  course,  he 
was  the  rightful  lord ;  ready  to  bid  all  false  claimants,  rivals,  and 
pretenders  beware. 

And  yet,  as  he  walked  up  to  the  house,  some  little  tremor  of 
anxiety  crept  into  his  heart.  It  was  no  mere  game  of  brag  in 
which  he  was  engaged.  As  he  went  into  the  parlor,  Wenna  step- 
ped quietly  by  him,  her  eyes  downcast ;  and  he  knew  that  all  he 
cared  to  look  forward  to  in  the  world  depended  on  the  decision 


A    PERILOUS    TRUCE.  201 

of  that  quiet  little  person  with  the  sensitive  mouth  and  the  ear- 
nest eyes.     Fighting  was  not  of  much  use  there. 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Rosewarne,"  said  he,  rather  shamefacedly,  "  I  sup- 
pose you  mean  to  scold  me  ?" 

Her  answer  surprised  him.  She  took  no  heed  of  his  remark, 
but  in  a  vehement,  excited  way  began  to  ask  him  questions  about 
a  woman  whom  she  described.     He  stared  at  her. 

"  I  hope  you  don't  know  anything  about  that  elegant  creature  ?" 
he  said. 

She  did  not  wholly  tell  him  the  story,  but  left  him  to  guess  at 
some  portions  of  it;  and  then  she  demanded  to  know  all  about 
the  woman  and  her  companion,  and  how  Toug  they  had  been  in 
Penzance,  and  where  they  were  going.  Master  Harry  was  by 
chance  able  to  reply  to  certain  of  her  questions.  The  answers 
comforted  her  greatly.  Was  he  quite  sure  that  she  was  married  ? 
What  was  her  husband's  name  ?  She  was  no  longer  Mrs.  Shirley  ? 
Would  he  find  out  all  he  could  ?  Would  he  forgive  her  asking 
him  to  take  all  this  trouble ;  and  would  he  promise  to  say  no 
word  about  it  to  AVenna  ? 

When  all  this  had  been  said  and  done,  the  young  man  felt  him- 
self considerably  embarrassed.  Was  there  to  be  no  mention  of  his 
own  affairs  ?  So  far  from  remonstrating  with  him  and  forbidding 
him  the  house,  Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  almost  effusively  gi-ateful  to 
him,  and  could  only  beg  him  a  thousand  times  not  to  mention  the 
subject  to  her  daughter. 

"  Oh,  of  course  not,"  said  he,  rather  bewildered.  "  But — but 
I  thought  from  the  way  in  which  she  left  the  room  that — that 
perhaps  I  had  offended  her." 

"  Oh  no,  I  am  sure  that  is  not  the  case,"  said  Mrs.  Rosewarne, 
and  she  immediately  went  and  called  Wenna,  who  came  into  the 
room  with  rather  an  anxious  look  on  her  face,  but  she  immedi- 
ately perceived  the  change  in  her  mother's  mood.  The  demon  of 
suspicion  and  jealousy  had  been  as  suddenly  exorcised  as  it  had 
been  summoned.  Mrs.  Rosewarne's  fine  eyes  were  lit  by  quite  a 
new  brightness  and  gayety  of  spirits.  She  bade  Wenna  declare 
what  fearful  cause  of  offence  Mr.  Trelyon  had  given  ;  and  laughed 
when  the  young  man,  blushing  somewhat,  hastily  assured  both  of 
them  that  it  was  all  a  stupid  mistake  of  his  own. 

"  Oh  yes,"  Wenna  said,  rather  nervously,  "  it  is  a  mistake.  I 
am  sure  you  have  given  me  no  offence  at  all,  Mr.  Trelyon." 

12 


202  THREE    FEATHERS. 

It  was  an  embarrassing  moment  for  two,  at  least,  out  of  these 
three  persons ;  and  Mrs.  Eosewarne,  in  her  abundant  good-nature, 
could  not  understand  their  awkward  silence.  Wenna  was  appar- 
ently looking  out  of  the  window  at  the  bright  blue  bay  and  the 
boats ;  and  yet  the  girl  was  not  ordinarily  so  occupied  when  Mr. 
Trelyon  was  present.  As  for  him,  he  had  got  his  hat  in  his 
hands ;  he  seemed  to  be  much  concerned  about  it,  or  about  his 
boots ;  one  did  not  often  find  Ilarry  Trelyon  actually  showing 
shyness. 

At  last  he  said,  desperately  — 

"  Mrs.  Rosewarne,  perhaps  you  would  go  out  for  a  sail  in  the 
afternoon  ?  I  could  get  you  a  nice  little  yacht,  and  some  rods  and 
lines.     Won't  you  ?'' 

Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  in  a  kindly  humor.  She  said  she  would  be 
very  glad  to  go,  for  Wenna  was  growing  tired  of  always  sitting  by 
the  window.     This  would  be  some  little  variety  for  her. 

"  I  hope  you  won't  consider  me,  mother,"  said  the  young  lady 
quickly,  and  with  some  asperity.  *'  I  am  quite  pleased  to  sit  by 
the  window — I  could  do  so  always.  And  it  is  very  wrong  of  us 
to  take  up  so  much  of  Mr.  Trelyon's  time." 

"  Because  Mr.  Trelyon's  time  is  of  so  much  use  to  him,"  said 
that  young  man,  with  a  laugh ;  and  then  he  told  them  when  to 
expect  him  in  the  afternoon,  and  went  his  way. 

He  was  in  much  better  spirits  when  he  went  out.  lie  whistled 
as  he  went.  The  plash  of  the  blue  sea  all  along  the  shingle 
seemed  to  have  a  sort  of  laugh  in  it ;  he  was  in  love  with  Pen- 
zance and  all  its  beautiful  neighborhood.  Once  again,  he  was  say- 
ing to  himself,  he  would  spend  a  quiet  and  delightful  afternoon 
with  Wenna  Rosewarne,  even  if  that  were  to  be  the  last.  lie 
would  surrender  himself  to  the  gentle  intoxication  of  her  presence. 
He  would  get  a  glimpse,  from  time  to  time,  of  her  dark  eyes  when 
she  was  looking  wistfully  and  absently  over  the  sea.  It  was  no 
breach  of  the  implied  contract  with  her  that  he  should  have  seized 
this  occasion.  He  had  been  sent  for.  And  if  it  was  necessary 
that  he  should  abstain  from  seeing  her  for  any  great  length  of 
time,  why  this  single  afternoon  would  not  make  much  difference. 
Afterwards  he  would  obey  her  wishes  in  any  manner  she  pleased. 

He  walked  into  the  hotel  There  was  a  gentleman  standing  in 
the  hall  whose  acquaintance  Master  Harry  had  condescended  to 
make.    He  was  a  person  of  much  money,  uncertain  grammar,  and 


A    PERILOUS    TRUCE.  203 

oppressive  generosity ;  lie  wore  a  frilled  sliirt  and  diamond  studs, 
and  he  had  such  a  vast  admiration  for  this  handsome,  careless,  and 
somewhat  rude  young  man  that  he  would  have  been  very  glad 
had  Mr.  Trelyon  dined  with  him  every  evening,  and  taken  the 
trouble  to  win  any  reasonable  amount  of  money  of  him  at  billiards 
afterwards.     Mr.  Trelyon  had  not  as  yet  graced  his  table. 

"  Oh,  Grainger,"  said  the  young  man,  "  I  want  to  speak  to  you. 
AVill  you  dine  with  me  to-night  at  eight  ?" 

"  No,  no,  no,"  said  Mr.  Grainger,  shaking  his  head  in  humble 
protest,  "  that  isn't  fair.  You  dine  with  me  ?  It  ain't  the  first  or 
the  second  time  of  asking  either." 

"  But  look  here,"  said  Trelyon,  "  I've  got  lots  more  to  ask  of 
you.  I  want  you  to  lend  me  that  little  cutter  of  yours  for  the 
afternoon  ;  will  you  ?  You  send  your  man  on  board  to  see  she's 
all  right,  and  I'll  pull  out  to  her  in  about  half  an  hour's  time. 
You'll  do  that,  won't  you,  like  a  good  fellow  ?" 

Mr.  Grainger  was  not  only  willing  to  lend  the  yacht,  but  also 
his  own  services,  to  see  that  she  properly  received  so  distinguished 
a  guest ;  whereupon  Trelyon  had  to  explain  that  he  wanted  the 
small  craft  merely  to  give  a  couple  of  ladies  a  sail  for  an  hour  or 
so.  Then  Mr.  Grainger  would  have  his  man  instructed  to  let  the 
ladies  have  some  tea  on  board ;  and  he  would  give  Master  Harry  the 
key  of  certain  receptacles,  in  Avhich  he  would  find  cans  of  preserved 
meat,  fancy  biscuits,  jam,  and  even  a  few  bottles  of  dry  Sillery ; 
finally,  he  would  immediately  hurry  off  to  see  about  fishing-rods. 
Trelyon  had  to  acknowledge  to  himself  that  this  worthy  person 
deserved  the  best  dinner  that  the  hotel  could  produce. 

In  the  afternoon  he  walked  along  to  fetch  Mrs.  Rosewarne  and 
her  daughter,  his  face  bright  with  expectation.  Mrs.  Rosewarne 
was  dressed  and  ready  when  he  went  in ;  but  she  said  — 

"  I  am  afraid  I  can't  go,  Mr.  Trelyon.  Wenna  says  she  is  a 
little  tired,  and  would  rather  stay  at  home." 

"  Wenna,  that  isn't  fair,"  he  said,  obviously  hurt.  "  You  ought 
to  make  some  little  effort  when  you  know  it  will  do  your  mother 
good.  And  it  will  do  you  good  too,  if  only  you  make  up  your 
mind  to  go." 

She  hesitated  for  a  moment ;  she  saw  that  her  mother  was  dis- 
appointed. Then,  without  a  word,  she  went  and  put  on  her  liat 
and  shawl. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  approvingly,  "  you  arc  very  reasonable,  and 


204  THREE  FEATHERS. 

very  obedient.  But  we  can't  liave  you  go  with  us  -with  sucli  a  face 
as  that.     People  Avould  say  Ave  were  going  to  a  funeral." 

A  shy  smile  came  over  the  gentle  features,  and  she  turned 
aside. 

"And  we  can't  have  you  pretend  that  we  forced  you  to  go.  If 
we  go  at  all,  you  must  lead  the  way." 

"  You  would  tease  the  life  out  of  a  saint !"  she  said,  with  a 
vexed  and  embarrassed  laugh,  and  then  she  marched  out  before 
them,  very  glad  to  be  able  to  conceal  her  heightened  color. 

But  much  of  her  reserve  vanished  when  they  had  set  sail,  and 
when  the  small  cutter  was  beginning  to  make  way  through  the 
light  and  plashing  waves.  Wenna's  face  brightened.  She  no 
longer  let  her  two  companions  talk  exclusively  to  each  other.  She 
began  to  show  a  great  curiosity  about  the  little  yacht ;  she  grew 
anxious  to  have  the  lines  tlung  out ;  no  words  of  hers  could  ex- 
press her  admiration  for  the  beauty  of  the  afternoon  and  of  the 
scene  around  her. 

"  Now  are  you  glad  you  came  out  ?"  he  said  to  her, 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  shyly. 

"And  you'll  take  my  advice  another  time?" 

"  Do  you  ever  take  any  one's  advice  ?"  she  said,  venturing  to 
look  up. 

"  Yes,  certainly,"  he  answered,  "  when  it  agrees  with  my  own 
inclination.     Who  ever  does  any  more  than  that  ?" 

They  were  now  a  good  bit  away  from  land. 

"  Skipper,"  said  Trelyon  to  Mr.  Grainger's  man,  "  we'll  put  her 
about  now,  and  let  her  drift.  Here  is  a  cigar  for  you ;  you  can 
take  it  up  to  the  bow  and  smoke  it,  and  keep  a  good  lookout  for 
the  sea-serpent." 

By  this  arrangement  they  obtained,  as  they  sat  and  idly  talked, 
an  excellent  view  of  all  the  land  around  the  bay,  and  of  the  pale, 
clear  sunset  shining  in  the  western  skies.  They  lay  almost  mo- 
tionless in  the  lapping  water ;  the  light  breeze  scarcely  stirred  the 
loose  canvas.  From  time  to  time  they  could  hear  a  sound  of 
calling  or  laughing  from  the  distant  fishing-boats ;  and  that  only 
seemed  to  increase  the  silence  around  them. 

It  was  an  evening  that  invited  to  repose  and  reverie ;  there 
were  not  even  the  usual  fiery  colors  of  the  sunset  to  arouse  and 
fix  attention  by  their  rapidly  changing  and  glowing  hues.  The 
town  itself,  lying  darkly  all  around  the  sweep  of  the  bay,  was  dusky 


A    PERILOUS    TRUCE.  205 

and  distant ;  elsewhere  all  the  Avorld  seemed  to  be  flooded  with 
the  silver  light  coming  over  from  behind  the  western  hills.  The 
sky  was  of  the  palest  blue  ;  the  long  mackerel  clouds  that  stretched 
across  were  of  the  faintest  yellow  and  lightest  gray  ;  and  into  that 
shining  gray  rose  the  black  stems  of  the  trees  that  were  just  over 
the  outline  of  these  low  heights.  St.  Michael's  Mount  had  its 
summit  touched  by  the  pale  glow  ;  the  rest  of  the  giant  rock  and 
the  far  stretches  of  sea  around  it  were  gray  with  mist.  But  close 
by  the  boat  there  was  a  sharper  light  on  the  lapping  waves  and  on 
the  tall  spars ;  while  it  was  warm  enough  to  heighten  the  color  on 
Wenna's  face  as  she  sat  and  looked  silently  at  the  great  and  open 
world  around  her. 

They  w^ere  drifting  in  more  ways  than  one.  Wenna  almost 
forgot  what  had  occurred  in  the  morning.  She  was  so  pleased  to 
see  her  mother  pleased  that  she  talked  quite  unreservedly  to  the 
young  man  who  had  wrought  the  change,  and  was  ready  to  believe 
all  that  Mrs.  Rosewarne  said  in  private  about  his  being  so  delight- 
ful and  cheerful  a  companion.  As  for  him,  he  was  determined  to 
profit  by  this  last  opportunity.  If  the  strict  rules  of  honor  de- 
manded that  Mr.  Roscorla  should  have  fair  play  —  or  if  Wenna 
wished  him  to  absent  himself,  which  was  of  more  consequence 
than  Mr.  Roscovla's  interests  —  he  would  make  his  visits  few  and 
formal ;  but  in  the  mean  time,  at  least,  they  would  have  this  one 
pleasant  afternoon  together.  Sometimes,  it  is  true,  he  rebelled 
against  the  uncertain  pledge  he  had  given  her.  Why  should  he 
not  seek  to  Avin  her  ?  What  had  the  strict  rules  of  honor  to  do 
with  the  prospect  of  a  young  girl  allowing  herself  to  be  sacrificed, 
while  here  he  was  able  and  willing  to  snatch  her  aAvay  from  Iier 
fate? 

"  How  fond  you  are  of  the  sea  and  of  boats !"  he  said  to  her. 
"  Sometimes  I  think  I  shall  have  a  big  schooner  yacht  built  for 
myself,  and  take  her  to  the  Mediterranean,  going  from  place  to 
place  just  as  one  took  the  fancy.  But  it  would  be  very  dull  by 
yourself,  Avouldn't  it,  even  if  you  had  a  dozen  men  on  board  ? 
What  you  want  is  to  have  a  small  party  all  very  friendly  with  each 
other,  and  at  night  you  Avould  sit  up  on  deck  and  sing  songs. 
And  I  think  you  would  like  those  old-fashioned  songs  that  you 
sing.  Miss  Wenna,  all  the  better  for  hearing  them  so  far  away  from 
home — at  least,  I  should ;  but  then  I'm  an  outer  barbarian.  I 
think  you,  now,  would  be  delighted  with  the  grand  music  abroad 


20G  THREE    FEATHERS. 

—  with  tlie  operas,  you  know,  and  all  that.  I've  had  to  knock 
about  these  places  with  people  ;  but  I  don't  care  about  it.  I  would 
rather  hear  '  Norah,  the  Pride  of  Kildarc,'  or  '  The  Maid  of  Llan- 
gollen'— because,  I  suppose,  these  young  women  are  more  in  my 
line.  You  see,  I  shouldn't  care  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  a 
gorgeous  creature  with  black  hair  and  a  train  of  yellow  satin  half 
a  mile  long,  who  tosses  up  a  gilt  goblet  when  she  sings  a  drinking- 
song,  and  then  gets  into  a  frightful  passion  about  what  you  don't 
understand.  AYouldn't  you  rather  meet  the  'Maid  of  Llangollen' 
coming  along  a  country  road — coming  in  by  Marazion  over  there, 
for  example — with  a  bright  print  dress  all  smelling  of  lavender,  and 
a  basket  of  fresh  eggs  over  her  arm  ?  Well — what  was  I  saying  ? 
Oh  yes !  don't  you  think  if  you  were  away  in  the  Adriatic,  and 
sitting  up  on  deck  at  night,  you  would  make  the  people  have  a 
quiet  cry  when  you  sang  '  Home,  sweet  home  ?'  The  words  are 
rather  silly,  aren't  they  ?  But  they  make  you  think  of  such  a  lot 
if  you  hear  them  abroad." 

"And  when  are  you  going  away  this  year,  Mr.  Trelyon?" 
Wenna  said,  looking  down. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  he  said,  cheerfully ;  he  would  have  no 
question  of  his  going  away  interfere  with  the  happiness  of  the 
present  moment. 

At  length,  however,  they  had  to  bethink  themselves  of  getting 
back,  for  the  western  skies  were  deepening  in  color,  and  the  even- 
ing air  was  growing  chill.  They  ran  the  small  cutter  back  to  her 
moorings ;  then  they  put  ofE  in  the  small  boat  for  the  shore.  It 
was  a  beautiful,  quiet  evening.  Wenna,  who  had  taken  off  her 
glove  and  was  allowing  her  bare  hand  to  drag  through  the  rippling 
water,  seemed  to  be  lost  in  distant  and  idle  fancies  not  altogether 
of  a  melancholy  nature. 

"  AVcnna,"  her  mother  said,  "  you  will  get  your  hand  perfectly 
chilled." 

The  girl  drew  back  her  hand,  and  shook  the  water  off  her  drip- 
ping fingers.     Then  she  uttered  a  slight  cry. 

"  My  ring !"  she  said,  looking  with  absolute  fright  at  her  hand 
and  then  at  the  sea. 

Of  course,  they  stopped  the  boat  instantly  ;  but  all  they  could 
do  was  to  stare  at  the  clear,  dark  water.  The  distress  of  the  girl 
was  beyond  expression.  This  was  no  ordinary  trinket  that  had 
been  lost ;  it  was  a  gage  of  plighted  affection  given  her  by  one 


1 


A    PERILOUS    TRUCE.  207 

now  far  away,  and  in  his  absence  she  had  carelessly  flung  it  into 
the  sea.  She  had  no  fear  of  omens,  as  her  sister  had ;  but  surely, 
of  all  things  in  the  Avorld,  she  ought  to  have  treasured  up  this 
ring.  In  spite  of  herself,  tears  sprang  to  her  eyes.  Her  mother 
in  vain  attempted  to  make  light  of  the  loss.  And  then  at  last 
Harry  Trelyon,  driven  almost  beside  himself  by  seeing  the  girl  so 
plunged  in  grief,  hit  upon  a  wild  fashion  of  consoling  her. 

*'  Wenna,"  he  said,  "  don't  disturb  yourself !  Why,  we  can 
easily  get  you  the  ring.  Look  at  the  rocks  there — a  long  bank 
of  smooth  sand  slopes  out  from  them,  and  your  ring  is  quietly 
lying  upon  the  sand.  There  is  nothing  easier  than  to  get  it  up 
with  a  dredging-machine — I  will  undertake  to  let  you  have  it  by 
to-morrow  afternoon." 

Mrs.  Rosewarne  thought  he  was  joking ;  but  he  effectually  per- 
suaded Wenna,  at  all  events,  that  she  should  have  her  ring  next 
day.  Then  he  discovered  that  he  would  be  just  in  time  to  catch 
the  half-past  six  train  to  Plymouth,  where  he  would  get  the  prop- 
er apparatus,  and  return  in  the  morning. 

"  It  was  a  pretty  ring,"  said  he.  "  There  were  six  stones  in  it, 
weren't  there  ?" 

"  Five,"  she  said :  so  much  she  knew,  though  it  must  be  con- 
fessed she  had  not  studied  that  token  of  Mr,  Roscorla's  affection 
with  the  earnest  solicitude  Avhich  most  young  ladies  bestow  on 
the  first  gift  of  their  lover. 

Trelyon  jumped  into  a  fly  and  drove  off  to  the  station,  where 
he  sent  back  an  apology  to  Mr.  Grainger.  Wenna  went  home 
more  perturbed  than  she  had  been  for  many  a  day,  and  that  not 
solely  on  account  of  the  lost  ring. 

Everything  seemed  to  conspire  against  her,  and  keep  her  from 
carrying  out  her  honorable  resolutions.  That  sail  in  the  after- 
noon she  could  not  well  have  avoided;  but  she  had  dctei-mined 
to  take  some  opportunity  of  begging  Mr.  Trelyon  not  to  visit 
them  again  while  they  remained  in  Penzance.  Now,  however,  he 
was  coming  next  day ;  and,  whether  or  not  he  was  successful  in 
his  quest  after  the  missing  ring,  would  she  not  have  to  show  her- 
self abundantly  grateful  for  all  his  kindness  ? 

In  putting  away  her  gloves  she  came  upon  the  letter  of  Mr. 
Roscorla,  Avhich  she  had  not  yet  answered.  She  shivered  slight- 
ly: the  handwriting  on  the  envelope  seemed  to  reproach  her. 
And  yet  something  of  a  rebellious  spirit  rose  in  her  against  this 


208  THREE    FEATHERS. 

imaginary  accusation;  and  she  grew  angry  that  she  was  called 
upon  to  serve  this  harsh  and  inconsiderate  taskmaster,  and  give 
him  explanations  -which  humiliated  her.  He  had  no  right  to  ask 
questions  about  Mr.  Trelyon.  lie  ought  not  to  have  listened  to 
idle  gossip.  He  should  have  had  sufficient  faith  in  her  promised 
word ;  and  if  he  only  knew  the  torture  of  doubt  and  anxiety  she 
was  suffering  on  his  behalf — 

She  did  not  pursue  these  speculations  further ;  but  it  was  well 
with  Mr.  Roscorla  that  she  did  not  at  that  moment  sit  down  and 
answer  his  letter. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

FURTHER    ENTANGLEMENTS. 


"  Mother,"  said  Wenna,  that  night,  "  what  vexed  you  so  this 
morning?     "Who  was  the  woman  who  went  by?'' 

"  Don't  ask  me,  AVenna,"  the  mother  said,  rather  uneasily.  "  It 
would  do  you  no  good  to  know.  And  you  must  not  speak  of 
that  woman — she  is  too  horrid  a  creature  to  be  mentioned  by  a 
young  girl  ever." 

"Wenna  looked  surprised ;  and  then  she  said,  warmly — 

"  And  if  .she  is  so,  mother,  how  could  you  ask  Mr.  Trelyon  to 
have  anything  to  do  with  her?  Why  should  you  send  for  him  ? 
"Why  should  he  be  spoken  to  about  her  ?" 

"  Mr.  Trelyon  !"  her  mother  said,  impatiently.  "  You  seem  to 
have  no  thought  now  for  anybody  but  Mr.  Trelyon.  Surely  the 
young  man  can  take  care  of  himself." 

The  reproof  was  just ;  the  justice  of  it  was  its  sting.  She  was 
indeed  thinking  too  much  about  the  young  man,  and  her  mother 
was  right  in  saying  so ;  but  who  was  to  understand  the  extreme 
anxiety  that  possessed  her  to  bring  these  dangerous  relations  to 
an  end? 

On  the  following  afternoon  Wenna,  sitting  alone  at  the  window, 
heard  Trelyon  enter  below.  The  young  person  who  had  charge 
of  such  matters  allowed  him  to  go  up  the  stairs  and  announce 
himself  as  a  matter  of  course.  He  tapped  at  the  door,  and  came 
into  the  room. 


FURTHER    ENTANGLEMENTS.     •  209 

"Wliere's  your  mother,  Wenna  ?  The  girl  said  she  was  here. 
However,  never  mind — I've  brought  you  something  that  will  as- 
tonish you.     What  do  you  think  of  that  ?" 

She  scarcely  looked  at  the  ring,  so  great  was  her  embarrassment. 
That  the  present  of  one  lover  should  be  brought  back  to  her  by 
another  was  an  awkward,  almost  a  humiliating,  circumstance.  Yet 
she  was  glad  as  well  as  ashamed. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Trelyon,  how  can  I  thank  you  ?"  she  said,  in  her  low, 
earnest  voice.  "All  you  seem  to  care  for  is  to  make  other  people 
happy — and  the  trouble  you  have  taken  too  1" 

She  forgot  to  look  at  the  ring — even  when  he  pointed  out  how 
the  washing  in  the  sea  had  made  it  bright.  She  never  asked 
about  the  dredging.  Indeed,  she  was  evidently  disinclined  to 
speak  of  this  matter  in  any  way,  and  kept  the  finger  with  the 
ring  on  it  out  of  sight. 

" Mr. Trelyon,"  she  said  then,  with  equal  steadiness  of  voice, "I 
am  going  to  ask  something  more  from  you ;  and  I  am  sure  you 
will  not  refuse  it — " 

"  I  know,"  said  he,  hastily,  "  and  let  me  have  the  first  word. 
I  have  been  thinking  over  our  position  during  this  trip  to  Plym- 
outh and  back.  Well,  I  think  I  have  become  a  nuisance  to  you 
— wait  a  bit,  let  me  say  my  say  in  my  own  way ;  I  can  see  that 
I  only  embarrass  you  when  I  call  on  you,  and  that  the  permission 
you  give  me  is  only  leading  to  awkwardness  and  discomfort. 
Mind,  I  don't  think  you  are  acting  fairly  to  yourself  or  to  me  in 
forbidding  me  to  mention  again  what  I  told  you.  I  know  you're 
wrong.  You  should  let  me  show  you  what  sort  of  a  life  lies  be- 
fore you — but  there,  I  promised  to  keep  clear  of  that.  Well,  I 
will  do  what  you  like ;  and  if  you'd  rather  have  me  stay  away  al- 
together, I  will  do  that.  I  don't  want  to  be  a  nuisance  to  you. 
But  mind  this,  Wenna,  I  do  it  because  you  wish  it — I  don't  do  it 
because  I  think  any  man  is  bound  to  respect  an  engagement  which 
— which — which,  in  fact,  he  doesn't  respect — " 

Ilis  eloquence  broke  down ;  but  his  meaning  was  clear.  He 
stood  there  before  her,  ready  to  accept  her  decision  with  all  meek- 
ness and  obedience ;  but  giving  her  frankly  to  understand  that  he 
did  not  any  the  more  countenance  or  consider  as  a  binding  thing 
her  engagement  to  Mr.  Roscorla. 

"Mind  you,"  he  said,  "  I  am  not  quite  as  indifferent  about  all 
this  as  I  look.     It  isn't  the  way  of  our  family  to  put  their  hands 


210  THREE    FEATHERS. 

in  their  pockets  and  wait  for  orders.  But  I  can't  fight  with  you. 
Many  a  time  I  wish  there  was  a  man  in  the  case — then  he  and  I 
might  have  it  out;  but  as  it  is,  I  suppose  I  have  got  to  do  what 
you  say,  "Wenna,  and  that's  the  long  and  the  short  of  it." 

She  did  not  hesitate.  She  went  forward  and  offered  him  lior 
hand;  and  with  her  frank  eyes  looking  him  in  the  face,  she 
said — 

"  You  have  said  what  I  wished  to  say,  and  I  feared  I  had  not 
the  courage  to  say  it.  Now  you  are  acting  bravely.  Perhaps  at 
some  future  time  we  may  become  friends  again — oh  yes,  and  I  do 
hope  that ! — but  in  the  mean  time  you  will  treat  me  as  if  I  were  a 
stranger  to  you !" 

''  That  is  quite  impossible,"  said  he,  decisively.  "  You  ask  too 
much,  Wenna." 

"  Would  not  that  be  the  simpler  way  ?"  she  said,  looking  at  him 
again  with  the  frank  and  earnest  eyes ;  and  he  knew  she  was 
right. 

"  And  the  length  of  time  ?"  he  said. 

"  Until  Mr.  lioscorla  comes  home  again,  at  all  events,"  she 
said. 

She  had  touched  an  angfy  chord. 

"  What  has  he  to  do  with  us  ?"  the  young  man  said,  almost 
fiercely.  "  I  refuse  to  have  him  come  in  as  arbiter  or  in  any  way 
whatever.  Let  him  mind  his  own  business;  and  I  can  tell  you 
when  he  and  I  come  to  talk  over  this  engagement  of  yours — " 

"  You  promised  not  to  speak  of  that,"  she  said  quietly,  and  he 
instantly  ceased. 

"  Well,  Wenna,"  he  said,  after  a  minute  or  two,  "  I  think  you 
ask  too  much ;  but  you  must  have  it  your  own  way.  I  won't  annoy 
you  and  drive  you  into  a  comer — you  may  depend  on  that.  But 
to  be  perfect  strangers  for  an  indefinite  time ! — then  you  won't 
speak  to  me  when  I  see  you  passing  to  church  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,"  she  said,  looking  down  ;  "  I  did  not  mean  strangers 
like  that." 

"  And  I  thought,"  said  he,  with  something  more  than  disap- 
pointment in  his  face,  "  that  Avhen  I  proposed  to — to  relieve  you 
from  my  visits,  you  would  at  least  let  us  have  one  more  afternoon 
together — only  one — for  a  drive,  you  know.  It  would  be  nothing 
to  you — it  would  be  something  for  me  to  remember — " 

She  would  not  recognize  the  fact,  but  for  a  brief  moment  his 


FAREWELL  !  211 

under  lip  quivered ;  and  soraehow  slie  seemed  to  know  it,  though 
she  dared  not  look  up  to  his  face. 

"  One  afternoon  —  only  one,  to-morrow  —  next  day,  Wenna  ? 
Surely  you  cannot  refuse  me  that  ?" 

Then,  looking  at  her  with  a  great  compassion  in  his  eyes,  he 
suddenly  altered  his  tone. 

"  I  think  I  ought  to  be  hanged,"  he  said,  in  a  vexed  way.  "  You 
are  the  only  person  in  the  world  I  care  for,  and  every  time  I  sec 
you  I  plunge  you  into  trouble.  Well,  this  is  the  last  time.  Good- 
bye, Wenna !" 

Almost  involuntarily  she  put  out  her  hand  ;  but  it  was  with  the 
least  perceptible  gesture  to  bid  him  remain.  Then  she  went  past 
him ;  and  there  were  tears  running  down  her  face. 

"  If — if  you  will  wait  a  moment,"  she  said,  "  I  will  see  if  mam- 
ma and  I  can  go  with  you  to-morrow  afternoon." 

She  went  out  and  he  was  left  alone.  Each  word  that  she  had 
uttered  had  pierced  his  heart ;  but  which  did  he  feel  the  more 
deeply — remorse  that  he  should  have  insisted  on  this  slight  and 
useless  concession,  or  bitter  rage  against  the  circumstances  that 
environed  them,  and  the  man  who  was  altogether  responsible  for 
these?  There  was  now  at  least  one  person  in  the  world  who 
greatly  longed  for  the  return  of  Mr.  Roscorla. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

FAREWELL  ! 


"  Yes,  it  is  true,"  the  young  man  said,  next  morning,  to  his 
cousin,  "  this  is  the  last  time  I  shall  see  her  for  many  a  day." 

He  was  standing  with  his  back  to  her,  moodily  staring  out  of 
the  window. 

"Well,  Harry,"  his  cousin  said,  gently  enough,  "you  won't  be 
hurt  if  I  say  it  is  a  very  good  thing  ?  I  am  glad  to  see  you  have 
so  much  patience  and  reasonableness.  Indeed,  I  think  Miss  Rose- 
warne  has  very  much  improved  you  in  that  respect ;  and  it  is  very 
good  advice  she  has  given  you  now." 

"  Oh  yes,  it  is  all  very  well  to  talk !"  he  said,  impatiently. 
"  Common-sense  is  precious  easy  when  you  are  quite  indifferent. 


212  THREE    FEATHERS. 

Of  course,  she  is  quite  indifEerent,  and  she  says,  '  Don't  trouble 
me  !'  What  can  one  do  but  go  ?  But  if  she  was  not  so  indiffer- 
ent—" 

lie  turned  suddenly. 

"  Jue,  you  can't  tell  what  trouble  I  am  in !  Do  you  know  that 
sometimes  I  have  fancied  she  was  not  quite  so  indifferent — I 
have  had  the  cheek  to  think  so  from  one  or  two  things  she  said 
— and  then,  if  that  were  so,  it  is  enough  to  drive  one  mad  to 
think  of  leaving  her.  How  could  I  leave  her,  Jue  ?  If  any  one 
cared  for  you,  would  you  quietly  sneak  off  in  order  to  consult 
your  own  comfort  and  convenience?  Would  you  be  patient  and 
reasonable  then  ?" 

"  Harry,  don't  talk  in  that  excited  way.  Listen,  She  does  not 
ask  you  to  go  away  for  your  sake,  but  for  hers." 

"  For  her  sake  ?"  he  repeated,  staring.  "  If  she  is  indifferent, 
how  can  that  matter  to  her  ?  W^ell,  I  suppose  I  am  a  nuisance  to 
her — as  much  as  I  am  to  myself.  There  it  is.  I  am  an  inter- 
loper." 

"  My  poor  boy,"  his  cousin  said,  with  a  kindly  smile,  "  you 
don't  know  your  own  mind  two  minutes  running.  During  this 
past  week  you  have  been  blown  about  by  all  sorts  of  contrary 
winds  of  opinion  and  fancy.  Sometimes  you  thought  she  cared 
for  you — sometimes  no.  Sometimes  you  thought  it  a  shame  to 
interfere  with  Mr.  Roscorla ;  then  again  you  grew  indignant  and 
would  have  slaughtered  him.  Now  you  don't  know  Avhether  you 
ought  to  go  away  or  stop  to  persecute  her.  Don't  you  think  she 
is  the  best  judge  ?" 

"  No,  I  don't,"  he  said.  "  I  think  she  is  no  judge  of  what  is 
best  for  her,  because  she  never  thinks  of  that.  She  wants  some- 
body by  her  to  insist  on  her  being  properly  selfish." 

"  That  would  be  a  pretty  lesson." 

"  A  necessary  one,  anyhow,  with  some  women,  I  can  tell  you. 
But  I  suppose  I  must  go,  as  she  says.  I  couldn't  bear  meeting 
her  about  Eglosilyan,  and  be  scarcely  allowed  to  speak  to  her. 
Then  when  that  hideous  little  beast  comes  back  from  Jamaica, 
fancy  seeing  them  walk  about  together !  I  must  cut  the  whole 
place.  I  shall  go  into  the  anny — it's  the  only  profession  open  to 
a  fool  like  me,  and  they  say  it  won't  be  long  open  either.  When 
I  come  back,  Jue,  I  suppose  you'll  be  Mrs.  Tressider." 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  his  cousin  said,  not  heeding  the  reference 


FAREWELL  !  213 

to  herself ;  "  I  never  expected  to  see  you  so  deep  in  trouble,  Har- 
ry. But  you  have  youth  and  good  spirits  on  your  side :  you  will 
get  over  it." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  he  said,  not  very  cheerfully ;  and  then  he  went 
off  to  see  about  the  carriage  which  was  to  take  Wenna  and  him- 
self for  their  last  drive  together. 

At  the  same  time  that  he  was  talking  to  his  cousin,  Wenna  was 
seated  at  her  writing-desk  answering  Mr.  Roscorla's  letter.  Her 
brows  were  knit  together ;  she  w^as  evidently  laboring  at  some  dif- 
ficult and  disagreeable  task.  Her  mother,  lying  on  the  sofa,  was 
regarding  her  with  an  amused  look. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Wenna  ?  That  letter  seems  to  give  you 
a  deal  of  trouble." 

The  girl  put  down  her  pen  with  some  trace  of  vexation  in  her 
face. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  mother.  How  is  one  to  explain  delicate  matters 
in  a  letter?  Every  phrase  seems  capable  of  misconstruction.  And 
then  the  mischief  it  may  cause  !" 

"  But  surely  you  don't  need  to  write  with  such  care  to  Mr.  Ros- 
corla !" 

Wenna  colored  slightly,  and  hesitated,  as  she  answered — 

"  Well,  mother,  it  is  something  peculiar.  I  did  not  wish  to 
trouble  you ;  but  after  all  I  don't  think  you  will  vex  yourself 
about  so  small  a  thing.  Mr.  Roscorla  has  been  told  stories  about 
me.  He  is  angry  that  Mr.  Trelyon  should  visit  us  so  often.  And 
— and — I  am  trying  to  explain.     That  is  all,  mother." 

"  It  is  quite  enough,  AVenna ;  but  I  am  not  surprised.  Of 
course,  if  foolish  persons  liked  to  misconstrue  Mr.  Trelyon's  visits, 
they  might  make  mischief.  I  see  no  harm  in  them  myself.  I 
suppose  the  young  man  found  an  evening  at  the  inn  amusing ; 
and  I  can  see  that  he  likes  you  very  well,  as  many  other  people 
do.  But  you  know  how  you  are  situated,  Wenna.  If  Mr.  Ros- 
corla objects  to  your  continuing  an  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Trelyon, 
your  duty  is  clear." 

"  I  do  not  think  it  is,  mother,"  Wenna  said,  an  indignant  flush 
of  color  appearing  in  her  face.  "  I  should  not  be  justified  in 
throwing  over  any  friend  or  acquaintance  merely  because  Mr.  Ros- 
corla had  heard  rumors.  I  would  not  do  it.  He  ought  not  to 
listen  to  such  things — he  ought  to  have  greater  faith  in  me.  But 
at  the  same  time  I  have  asked  Mr.  Trelyon  not  to  come  here  so 


214  THREE    FEATHERS. 

often — I  have  done  so  already — and  after  to-day,  mother,  the  gos- 
sips will  have  nothing  to  report." 

"  That  is  better,  AVenna,"  the  mother  said ;  "  I  shall  be  sorry 
myself  to  miss  the  young  man,  for  I  like  him  ;  but  it  is  better  you 
should  attend  to  Mr.  Roscorla's  wishes.  And  don't  answer  his  let- 
ter in  a  vexed  or  angry  way,  Wenna." 

She  was  certainly  not  doing  so.  AVhatcver  she  might  be  think- 
ing, a  deliberate  and  even  anxious  courtesy  was  visible  in  the  an- 
swer she  was  sending  him.  Iler  pride  would  not  allow  her  to 
apologize  for  Avhat  had  been  done,  in  which  she  had  seen  no 
wrong ;  but  as  to  the  future  she  was  earnest  in  her  promises. 
And  yet  she  could  not  help  saying  a  good  word  for  Trelyon. 

"  You  have  known  him  longer  than  I  have,"  she  wrote,  "  and 
you  know  what  his  character  is.  I  could  see  nothing  wrong  in 
his  coming  to  see  my  family  and  myself;  nor  did  you  say  any- 
thing against  him  while  you  saw  him  with  us.  I  am  sure  you 
believe  he  is  straightforward,  honest,  and  frank ;  and  if  his  frank- 
ness sometimes  verges  upon  rudeness,  he  is  of  late  greatly  im- 
proved in  that  respect — as  in  many  others — and  he  is  most  re- 
spectful and  gentle  in  his  manners.  As  for  his  kindness  to  my 
mother  and  myself,  we  could  not  shut  our  eyes  to  it.  Here  is 
the  latest  instance  of  it ;  although  I  feel  deeply  ashamed  to  tell 
you  the  story.  We  were  returning  in  a  small  boat,  and  I  was 
carelessly  letting  my  hand  drag  through  the  water,  when  some- 
how the  ring  you  gave  me  dropped  off.  Of  course,  we  all  con- 
sidered it  lost — all  except  Mr.  Trelyon,  who  took  the  trouble  to  go 
at  once  all  the  way  to  Plymouth  for  a  drcdging-machine,  and  the 
following  afternoon  I  was  overjoyed  to  find  him  return  with  the 
lost  ring,  which  I  had  scarcely  dared  hope  to  see  again.  How 
many  gentlemen  would  have  done  so  much  for  a  mere  acquaint- 
ance? I  am  sure  if  you  had  been  here  you  would  have  been 
ashamed  of  me  if  I  had  not  been  grateful  to  him.  Now,  however, 
since  you  appear  to  attach  importance  to  these  idle  rumors,  I  have 
asked  Mr.  Trelyon — " 

So  the  letter  went  on.  She  would  not  have  written  so  calmly 
if  she  had  foreseen  the  passion  which  her  ingenuous  story  about 
the  dredging-machine  was  destined  to  arouse.  When  Mr.  Eos- 
corla  read  that  simple  narrative,  he  first  stared  with  astonishment 
as  though  she  were  making  some  foolish  joke.  Directly  he  saw 
she  was  serious,  however,  his  rage  and  mortification  were  inde- 


FAREWELL  !  215 

scribable.  Here  was  this  young  man,  not  content  with  hanging 
about  the  girl  so  that  neighbors  talked,  but  actually  imposing  on 
her  credulity,  and  making  a  jest  of  that  engaged  ring  which  ought 
to  have  been  sacred  to  her.  Mr.  Roscorla  at  once  saw  through 
the  whole  affair — the  trip  to  Plymouth,  the  purchasing  of  a  gyp- 
sy ring  that  could  have  been  matched  a  dozen  times  over  any- 
where— the  return  to  Penzance  with  a  cock-and-bull  story  about 
a  dredging-machine.  So  hot  was  his  anger  that  it  overcame  his 
prudence.  He  would  start  for  England  at  once.  He  had  taken 
no  such  resolution  when  he  heard  from  the  friendly  and  com- 
municative Mr.  Barnes  that  Mr.  Trelyon's  conduct  with  regard  to 
Wenna  was  causing  scandal ;  but  this  making  a  fool  of  him  in 
his  absence  he  could  not  bear.  At  any  cost  he  would  set  out  for 
England;  arrange  matters  more  to  his  satisfaction  by  recalling 
Wenna  to  a  sense  of  her  position ;  then  he  would  return  to  Ja- 
maica. His  affairs  there  were  already  promising  so  well  that  he 
could  afford  the  trip. 

Meanwhile  Wenna  had  just  finished  her  letter  when  Mr.  Tre- 
lyon  drove  up  with  the  carriage,  and  shortly  afterwards  came  into 
the  room.  He  seemed  rather  grave,  and  yet  not  at  all  sentimen- 
tally sad.  He  addressed  himself  mostly  to  Mrs.  Rosewarne,  and 
talked  to  her  about  the  Port  Isaac  fishing,  the  emigration  of  the 
miners,  and  other  matters.  Then  Wenna  slipped  away  to  get 
ready. 

"  Mrs.  Rosewarne,"  he  said,  "  you  asked  me  to  find  out  what  I 
could  about  that  red-faced  person,  you  know.  Well,  here  is  an 
advertisement  which  may  interest  you.  I  came  on  it  quite  acci- 
dentally last  night  in  the  smoking-room  of  the  hotel." 

It  was  a  marriage  advertisement,  cut  from  a  paper  about  a  week 
old.  The  name  of  the  lady  was  "  Katherinc  Ann,  widow  of  the 
late  J.  T.  Shirley,  Esq.,  of  Barrackpore." 

,  "  Yes  !  I  was  sure  it  was  that  woman  !"     Mrs.  Rosewarne  said 
eagerl3\     "  And  so  she  is  married  again  ?" 

"  I  fancied  the  gay  young  things  were  here  on  their  wedding- 
trip,"  Trelyon  said  carelessly.  "  They  amused  me.  I  like  to  see 
turtle-doves  of  fifty  billing  and  cooing  on  the  promenade,  espe- 
cially when  one  of  them  wears  a  brown  wig,  has  an  Irish  accent, 
and  drinks  brandy-and-watcr  at  breakfast.  But  he  is  a  good 
billiard-player ;  yes,  he  is  an  uncommonly  good  billiard-player. 
He  told  me  last  night  he  had  beaten  the  Irish  Sccretaiy  the  other 


216  THREE    FEATHERS. 

day  in  the  billiard-room  of  the  House  of  Commons.  I  humbly 
suspect  that  was  a  lie.  At  least,  I  can't  remember  anything  about 
a  billiard-table  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and  I  was  two  or  three 
times  through  every  bit  of  it  when  I  was  a  little  chap,  with  an 
uncle  of  mine,  who  was  a  member  then ;  but  perhaps  they've  got 
a  billiard-table  now — who  knows  ?  He  told  me  he  had  stood  for 
an  Irish  borough — spent  £3000  on  a  population  of  284 — and  all 
he  got  was  a  black  eye  and  a  broken  head.  I  should  say  all  that 
was  a  fabrication,  too ;  indeed,  I  think  he  rather  amuses  himself 
with  lies — and  brandy-and-water.  But  you  don't  want  to  know 
anything  more  about  him,  Mrs.  Rosewarne  ?" 

She  did  not.  All  that  she  cared  to  know  was  in  that  little 
strip  of  printed  paper ;  and  as  she  left  the  room  to  get  ready  for 
the  drive  she  expressed  herself  grateful  to  him  in  such  warm 
tones  that  he  was  rather  astonished.  After  all,  as  he  said  to  him- 
self, he  had  had  nothing  to  do  in  bringing  about  the  marriage  of 
that  somewhat  gorgeous  person  in  whom  Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  so 
strangely  interested. 

They  were  silent  as  they  drove  away.  There  was  one  happy 
face  among  them,  that  of  Mrs.  Rosewarne ;  but  she  was  thinking 
of  her  own  affairs,  in  a  sort  of  pleased  reverie.  "Wcnna  was  timid 
and  a  trifle  sad ;  she  said  little  beyond  "  Yes,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  and 
"  No,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  and  even  that  was  said  in  a  low  voice.  As 
for  him,  he  spoke  to  her  gravely  and  respectfully  :  it  Avas  already 
as  if  she  were  a  mere  stranger. 

Had  some  of  his  old  friends  and  acquaintances  seen  him  now, 
they  would  have  been  something  more  than  astonished.  Was 
this  young  man,  talking  in  a  gentle  and  courteous  fashion  to  his 
companion,  and  endeavoring  to  interest  her  in  the  various  things 
around  her,  the  same  dare-devil  lad  who  used  to  clatter  down  the 
main  street  of  Eglosilyan,  w^ho  knew  no  control  other  than  his 
own  unruly  wishes,  and  who  had  no  answer  but  a  mocking  jest 
for  any  remonstrance  ? 

"  And  how  long  do  you  remain  in  Penzance,  Mr.  Trelyon  ?" 
Mrs.  Rosewarne  said  at  length. 

"  Until  to-morrow,  I  expect,"  he  answered. 

"  To-morrow  ?" 

"  Yes ;  I  am  going  back  to  Eglosilyan.  You  know  my  mother 
means  to  give  some  party  or  other  on  my  coming  of  age,  and 
there  is  so  little  of  that  amusement  going  on  at  our  house  that  it 


farewell!  217 

needs  all  possible  encouragement.  After  that  I  mean  to  leave 
Eglosilyan  for  a  time." 

Wenna  said  nothing ;  but  her  downcast  face  grew  a  little  paler : 
it  was  she  who  was  banishing  him. 

"  By  the  way,"  he  continued,  with  a  smile,  "  my  mother  is  very 
anxious  about  Miss  Wenna's  return.  I  fancy  she  has  been  trying 
to  go  into  that  business  of  the  Sewing  Club  on  her  own  account ; 
and  in  that  case  she  would  be  sure  to  get  into  a  mess.  I  know 
her  first  impulse  would  be  to  pay  any  money  to  smooth  matters 
over ;  but  that  would  be  a  bad  beginning,  wouldn't  it  ?" 

"  Yes,  it  would,"  Wenna  said  ;  but  somehow,  at  this  moment, 
she  was  less  inclined  to  be  hopeful  about  the  future. 

"  And  as  for  you,  Mrs.  Rosewarne,"  he  said,  "  I  suppose  you 
will  be  going  home  soon,  now  that  the  change  seems  to  have  done 
you  so  much  good  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  hope  so,"  she  said  ;  "  but  Wenna  must  go  first.  My 
husband  writes  to  me  that  he  cannot  do  without  her,  and  offers 
to  send  Mabyn  instead.  Nobody  seems  to  be  able  to  get  on  Avith- 
out  our  Wenna." 

"  And  yet  she  has  the  most  curious  fancy  that  she  is  of  no  ac- 
count to  anybody.  Why,  some  day  I  expect  to  hear  of  the  people 
in  Eglosilyan  holding  a  public  meeting  to  present  her  with  a 
service  of  plate,  and  an  address  written  on  parchment,  with  blue 
and  gold  letters." 

"Perhaps  they  will  do  that  when  she  gets  married,"  the  moth- 
er said,  ignorant  of  the  stab  she  was  dealing. 

It  was  a  picturesque  and  pleasant  bit  of  country  through  which 
they  were  driving ;  yet  to  two  of  them  at  least  the  afternoon  sun 
seemed  to  shine  over  it  with  a  certain  sadness.  It  was  as  if  they 
were  bidding  good-bye  to  some  beautiful  scene  they  could  scarce- 
ly expect  to  revisit.  For  many  a  day  thereafter,  indeed,  Wenna 
seemed  to  recollect  that  drive  as  though  it  had  happened  in  a 
dream.  She  remembered  the  rough  and  lonely  road  leading  up 
sharp  hills  and  getting  down  into  valleys  again ;  the  masses  of 
ferns  and  wild  flowers  by  the  stone  walls ;  the  wild  and  undu- 
lating country,  with  its  stretches  of  yellow  furze,  its  clumps  of 
trees,  and  its  huge  blocks  of  gray  granite.  She  remembered  their 
passing  into  a  curious  little  valley,  densely  wooded,  the  winding 
path  of  which  was  not  well  fitted  for  a  broad  carriage  and  a  pair 
of  horses.     They  had  to  watch  the  boughs  and  branches  as  thev 

K 


218  THREE    FEATHERS. 

jolted  by.  Tlie  sun  -was  warm  among  tlie  foliage ;  there  was  a 
resinous  scent  of  ferns  about.  By  and  by  tlie  valley  abruptly 
opened  on  a  wide  and  beautiful  picture.  Lamorna  Cove  lay  be- 
fore tliem,  and  a  cold  fresli  breeze  came  in  from  the  sea.  Here 
the  world  seemed  to  cease  suddenly.  All  around  them  were 
huge  rocks  and  wild  flowers  and  trees ;  and  far  up  there  on  their 
left  rose  a  hill  of  granite,  burning  red  with  the  sunset ;  but  down 
below  them  the  strange  little  harbor  was  in  shadow,  and  the  sea 
beyond,  catching  nothing  of  the  glow  in  the  west,  was  gray  and 
mystic  and  silent.  Not  a  ship  was  visible  on  that  pale  plain  ;  no 
human  being  could  be  seen  about  the  stone  quays  and  the  cot- 
tages ;  it  seemed  as  if  they  had  come  to  the  end  of  the  world, 
and  were  its  last  inhabitants.  All  these  things  Wenna  thought 
of  in  after-days,  until  the  odd  and  plain  little  harbor  of  Lamorna 
and  its  rocks  and  bushes  and  slopes  of  granite  seemed  to  be  some 
bit  of  fairyland,  steeped  in  the  rich  hues  of  the  sunset,  and  yet 
ethereal,  distant,  and  unrecoverable. 

Mrs.  Rosewarne  did  not  at  all  understand  the  silence  of  these 
young  people,  and  made  many  attempts  to  break  it  up.  "Was  the 
mere  fact  of  Mr.  Trelyon  returning  to  Eglosilyan  next  day  any- 
thing to  be  sad  about  ?  He  was  not  a  school-boy  going  back  to 
school.  As  for  Wenna,  she  had  got  back  her  engaged  ring,  and 
ought  to  have  been  grateful  and  happy. 

"Come  now,"  she  said,  "if  you  purpose  to  drive  back  by  the 
Mouse  Hole,  we  must  waste  no  more  time  here.  Wenna,  have 
you  gone  to  sleep  ?" 

The  girl  started  as  if  she  had  really  been  asleep ;  then  she 
walked  back  to  the  carriage  and  got  in.  They  drove  away  again 
without  saying  a  word. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Wenna?  ^Miy  are  you  so 
downcast  f '  her  mother  asked. 

"  Oh,  nothing !"  the  girl  said  hastily.  "  But — but  one  does 
not  care  to  talk  much  on  so  beautiful  an  evening." 

"  Yes,  that  is  quite  true,"  said  Mr.  Trelyon,  quite  as  eagerly,  and 
Avith  something  of  a  blush ;  "  one  only  cares  to  sit  and  look  at 
things." 

"  Oh,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Rosewarne,  with  a  smile ;  she  had  never 
before  heard  ]\Ir.  Trelyon  express  his  views  upon  scenery. 

They  drove  around  by  the  Mouse  Hole,  and  when  they  came 
in  sight  of  Penzance  again,  the  bay  and  the  semicircle  of  houses 


PAREWELL  I  219 

and  St.  Michael's  Mount  were  all  of  a  pale  gray  in  the  twilight. 
As  they  drove  quietly  along,  they  heard  the  voices  of  people  from 
time  to  time;  the  occupants  of  the  cottages  had  come  out  for 
their  evening  stroll  and  chat.  Suddenly,  as  they  were  passing 
certain  huge  masses  of  rock  that  sloped  suddenly  down  to  the 
sea,  they  heard  another  sound — that  of  two  or  three  boys  calling 
out  for  help.  The  briefest  glance  showed  what  was  going  on. 
These  boys  were  standing  on  the  rocks,  staring  fixedly  at  one  of 
their  companions  who  had  fallen  into  the  water  and  was  wildly 
splashing  about,  while  all  they  could  do  to  help  him  was  to  call 
for  aid  at  the  pitch  of  their  voices. 

"  That  chap's  drowning !"  Trelyon  said,  jumping  out  of  the 
carriage. 

The  next  minute  he  was  out  on  the  rocks,  hastily  pulling  off 
his  coat.  What  was  it  he  heard  just  as  he  plunged  into  the  sea 
— the  agonized  voice  of  a  girl  calling  him  back  ? 

Mrs.  Rosewarne  was  at  this  moment  staring  at  her  daughter 
with  almost  a  horror-stricken  look  on  her  face.  Was  it  really 
Wenna  Rosewarne  who  had  been  so  mean ;  and  what  madness 
possessed  her  to  make  her  so  ?  The  girl  had  hold  of  her  mother's 
arm  with  both  her  hands,  and  held  it  with  the  grip  of  a  vice ; 
while  her  white  face  was  turned  to  the  rocks  and  the  sea. 

"  Oh,  mother !"  she  cried,  "  it  is  only  a  boy,  and  he  is  a  man 
— and  there  is  not  another  in  all  the  world  like  him — " 

"  Wenna,  is  it  you  Avho  are  speaking ;  or  a  devil  ?  The  boy  is 
drowning !" 

But  he  was  drowning  no  longer.  He  was  laid  hold  of  by  a 
strong  arm,  dragged  in  to  the  rocks,  and  there  fished  out  by  his 
companions.  Then  Trelyon  got  up  on  the  rocks,  and  calmly 
looked  at  his  dripping  clothes. 

'*  You  are  a  nice  little  beast,  you  are !"  he  said  to  the  small  boy, 
who  had  swallowed  a  good  deal  of  salt  water,  but  was  otherwise 
quite  unhurt.  "  How  do  you  expect  I  am  going  home  in  these 
trousers  ?  Perhaps  your  mother'll  pay  me  for  a  new  pair,  eh  ? 
And  give  yo.u  a  jolly  good  thrashing  for  tumbling  in  ?  Here's 
a  half-crown  for  you,  you  young  rutfian ;  and  if  I  catch  you  on 
these  rocks  again,  I'll  throw  you  in  and  let  you  swim  for  it — see 
if  I  don't." 

He  walked  up  to  the  carriage,  shaking  himself,  and  putting  on 
his  coat  as  he  went,  with  great  difficulty. 


220  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  Mrs.  Roscwarne,  I  must  walk  back — I  can't  tliink  of — " 

lie  uttered  a  short  cry.  Wenna  was  lying  as  one  dead  in  her 
mother's  arms,  Mrs.  Roscwarne  vainly  endeavoring  to  revive  her. 
He  rushed  down  the  rocks  again  to  a  pool,  and  soaked  his  hand- 
kerchief in  the  water ;  then  he  went  hurriedly  back  to  the  car- 
riage, and  put  the  cool  handkerchief  on  her  temples  and  on  her 
face. 

*'  Oh,  Mr.  Trelyon,  do  go  away,  or  you  will  get  your  death  of 
cold !"  Mrs.  Rosewarne  said.  "  Leave  Wenna  to  me.  See,  there 
is  a  gentleman  who  will  lend  you  his  horse,  and  you  Avill  get  to 
your  hotel  directly." 

He  did  not  even  answer  her.  Ilis  own  face  was  about  as  pale 
as  that  of  the  girl  before  him,  and  hers  was  that  of  a  corpse.  But 
by  and  by  strange  tremors  passed  through  her  frame ;  her  hands 
tightened  their  grip  of  her  mother's  arm,  and,  with  a  sort  of  shud- 
der, she  opened  her  eyes  and  fearfully  looked  around.  She  caught 
sight  of  the  young  man  standing  there ;  she  scarcely  seemed  to 
recognize  him  for  a  moment.  And  then,  with  a  quick  nervous 
action,  she  caught  at  his  hand  and  kissed  it  twice,  hurriedly  and 
wildly ;  then  she  turned  to  her  mother,  hid  her  face  in  her  bosom, 
and  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears.  Probably  the  girl  scarcely  knew 
all  that  had  taken  place  ;  but  her  two  companions,  in  silence,  and 
with  a  great  apprehension  filling  their  hearts,  saw  and  recognized 
the  story  she  had  told. 

"  Mr.  Trelyon,"  said  Mrs.  Roscwarne,  "  you  must  not  remain 
here." 

Mechanically  he  obeyed  her.  The  gentleman  who  had  been 
riding  along  the  road  had  dismounted,  and,  fearing  some  accident 
had  occurred,  had  come  forward  to  offer  his  assistance.  When  he 
was  told  how  matters  stood,  he  at  once  gave  Trelyon  his  horse  to 
ride  into  Penzance ;  and  then  the  carriage  was  driven  off  also,  at 
a  considerably  less  rapid  pace. 

That  evening  Trelyon,  having  got  into  warm  clothes  and  dined, 
went  along  to  ask  how  Wenna  was.  Ilis  heart  beat  hurriedly  as 
he  knocked  at  the  door.  He  had  intended  merely  making  the 
inquiry,  and  coming  away  again ;  but  the  servant  said  that  Mrs. 
Rosewarne  wished  to  see  him. 

lie  went  up-stairs,  and  found  Mrs.  Rosewarne  alone.  These  two 
looked  at  each  other ;  that  single  glance  told  everything.  They 
were  both  aware  of  the  secret  that  had  been  revealed. 


MABYN  DREAMS.  221 

For  an  instant  there  was  dead  silence  between  tliem  ;  and  then 
Mrs.  Rosewarne,  Avith  a  great  sadness  in  her  voice,  despite  its 
studied  calmness,  said — 

"Mr.  Trelyon,  we  need  say  nothing  of  what  has  occurred. 
There  are  some  things  that  are  best  not  spoken  of.  But  I  can 
trust  to  you  not  to  seek  to  see  Wenna  before  you  leave  here.  She 
is  quite  recovered — only  a  little  nervous,  you  know,  and  fright- 
ened.    To-morrow  she  will  be  quite  well  again." 

"  You  will  bid  her  good-bye  for  me,"  he  said. 

But  for  the  tight  clasp  of  the  hand  between  these  two,  it  was 
an  ordinary  parting.  He  put  on  his  hat  and  went  out.  Perhaps 
it  was  the  cold  sea-air  that  made  his  face  so  pale. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

MABYN"    DREAMS. 

"  Yes,  mother,"  said  Mabyn,  bursting  into  the  room,  *'  here  I 
am ;  and  Jennifer's  down-stairs  with  my  box ;  and  I  am  to  stay 
with  you  here  for  another  week  or  a  fortnight ;  and  Wenna's  to 
go  back  at  once,  for  the  whole  world  is  convulsed  because  of  Mr. 
Trelyon's  coming  of  age;  and  Mrs.  Trelyon  has  sent  and  taken  all 
our  spare  rooms ;  and  father  says  Wenna  must  come  back  direct- 
ly, for  it's  always  '  Wenna,  do  this,'  and  '  Wenna,  do  that ;'  and  if 
Wenna  isn't  there,  of  course  the  sky  will  tumble  down  on  the 
earth —     Mother,  what's  the  matter,  and  where's  Wenna?" 

Mabyn  was  suddenly  brought  up  in  the  middle  of  her  voluble 
speech  by  the  strange  expression  on  her  mother's  face. 

"Oh,  Mabyn,  something  dreadful  has  happened  to  our  Wenna!" 

Mabyn  turned  deadly  white. 

"  Is  she  ill  ?"  she  said,  almost  in  a  whisper. 

"  No,  not  ill ;  but  a  great  trouble  has  fallen  on  her." 

Then  the  mother,  in  a  low  voice,  apparently  fearful  that  any 
one  should  overhear,  began  to  tell  her  younger  daughter  of  all  she 
had  learned  within  the  past  day  or  two — how  young  Trelyon  had 
been  bold  enough  to  tell  Wenna  that  he  loved  her ;  how  Wenna 
had  dallied  with  her  conscience  and  been  loth  to  part  with  him ; 
how  at  length  she  had  as  good  as  revealed  to  him  that  she  loved 


222  THREE    FEATHERS. 

him  in  return ;  and  how  she  was  now  overwhelmed  and  crushed 
beneath  a  sense  of  her  own  faithlessness  and  the  impossibility  of 
making  reparation  to  her  betrothed. 

"  Only  to  think,  Mabyn,"  said  the  mother,  in  accents  of  despair, 
"that  all  this  distress  should  have  come  about  in  such  a  quiet  and 
unexpected  way !  "Who  could  have  foreseen  it  ?  A^'hy,  of  all  peo- 
ple in  the  world,  you  would  have  thought  our  Wenna  was  the  least 
likely  to  have  any  misery  of  this  sort ;  and  many  a  time,  don't 
you  remember,  I  used  to  say  it  was  so  wise  of  her  getting  engaged 
to  a  prudent  and  elderly  man,  who  would  save  her  from  the  plagues 
and  trials  that  young  girls  often  suffer  at  the  hands  of  their  lovers. 
I  thought  she  was  so  comfortably  settled.  Everything  promised 
her  a  quiet  and  gentle  life.  And  now  this  sudden  shock  has  come 
upon  her,  she  seems  to  think  she  is  not  fit  to  live,  and  she  goes  on 
in  such  a  wild  way — " 

"  Where  is  she  ?"  Mabyn  said,  abruptly. 

"No,  no,  no,"  the  mother  said,  anxiously.  "You  must  not 
speak  a  word  to  her,  Mabyn.  You  must  not  let  her  know  I  have 
told  you  anything  about  it.  Leave  her  to  herself  for  a  while  at 
least ;  if  you  spoke  to  her,  she  would  take  it  you  meant  to  accuse 
her;  for  she  says  you  warned  her,  and  she  would  pay  no  heed. 
Leave  her  to  herself,  Mabyn." 

"  Then  where  is  Mr.  Trelyon  ?"  said  Mabyn,  with  some  touch 
of  indignation  in  her  voice.  "  What  is  he  doing?  Is  he  leaving 
her  to  herself  too  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  Mabyn,"  her  mother  said,  tim- 
idly. 

"  Why  doesn't  he  come  forward  like  a  man,  and  marry  her  ?" 
said  Mabyn,  boldly.  "  Yes,  that  is  what  I  Avould  do,  if  I  were  a 
man.  She  has  sent  him  away  ?  Yes,  of  course.  That  is  right 
and  proper.  And  Wenna  will  go  on  doing  what  is  right  and 
proper,  if  you  allow  her,  to  the  very  end,  and  the  end  will  be  a 
lifetime  of  misery,  that's  all.  No,  my  notion  is  that  she  should 
do  something  that  is  not  right  and  is  quite  improper,  if  only  it 
makes  her  happy ;  and  you'll  see  if  I  don't  get  her  to  do  it.  Why, 
mother,  haven't  you  had  eyes  to  see  that  these  two  have  been  in 
love  for  years  ?  Nobody  in  the  world  had  ever  the  least  control 
over  him  but  her;  he  would  do  anything  for  Wenna;  and  she — 
why,  she  always  came  back  singing  after  she  had  met  and  spoken 
to  him.     And  then  you  talk  about  a  prudent  and  sensible  husband ! 


I 


MABYN    DREAMS.  223 

I  don't  want  Wenna  to  marry  a  watcM ul,  mean,  old,  stocking-darn- 
ing cripple,  who  will  creep  about  the  house  all  day,  and  peer  into 
cupboards,  and  give  her  fourpence-halfpenny  a  week  to  live  on. 
I  want  her  to  marry  a  man,  one  that  is  strong  enough  to  protect 
her ;  and  I  tell  you,  mother — I've  said  it  before  and  I  say  it  again 
— she  shall  not  marry  Mr.  Eoscorla !" 

"  Mab}Ti !"  said  her  mother,  "  you  are  getting  madder  than  ever. 
Your  dislike  to  Mr.  Roscorla  is  most  unreasonable.  A  cripple ! — 
why—" 

"  Oh,  mother !"  Mabyn  cried,  with  a  bright  light  on  her  face, 
"  only  think  of  our  Wenna  being  married  to  Mr.  Trelyon,  and  how 
happy  and  pleased  and  pretty  she  would  look  as  they  went  walk- 
ing together !  And  then  how  proud  he  would  be  to  have  so  nice 
a  wife ;  and  he  would  joke  about  her,  and  be  very  impertinent, 
but  he  would  simply  worship  her  all  the  same,  and  do  everything 
he  could  to  please  her.  And  he  would  take  her  away  and  show 
her  all  the  beautiful  places  abroad ;  and  he  would  have  a  yacht, 
too ;  and  he  Avould  give  her  a  fine  house  in  London ;  and  don't 
you  think  our  "VVenna  would  fascinate  everybody  with  her  mouse- 
like ways,  and  her  nice,  small  steps  ?  And  if  they  did  have  any 
trouble,  wouldn't  she  be  better  to  have  somebody  with  her,  not 
timid  and  anxious  and  pettifogging,  but  somebody  who  wouldn't 
be  cast  down,  but  make  her  as  brave  as  himself  ?" 

Miss  Mabyn  was  a  shrewd  young  woman,  and  she  saw  that 
her  mother's  quick,  imaginative,  sympathetic  nature  was  being 
captivated  by  this  picture.  She  determined  to  have  her  as  an 
ally. 

"  And  don't  you  see,  mother,  how  it  all  lies  within  her  reach  ? 
Ilarry  Trelyon  is  in  love  with  her — there  was  no  need  for  him  to 
say  so — I  knew  it  long  before  he  did.  And  she — why,  she  has 
told  him  now  that  she  cares  for  him ;  and  if  I  were  he,  I  know 
what  I'd  do  in  his  place.  A\Tiat  is  there  in  the  way  ?  Why,  a — 
a  sort  of  understanding — " 

*'  A  promise,  Mabyn,"  said  the  mother. 

"  Well,  a  promise,"  said  the  girl,  desperately,  and  coloring  some- 
what. "But  it  was  a  promise  given  in  ignorance — she  didn't 
know — how  could  she  know?  Everybody  knows  that  such  prom- 
ises are  constantly  broken.  If  you  are  in  love  with  somebody 
else,  what's  the  good  of  your  keeping  the  promise  ?  Now,  moth- 
er, won't  you  argue  with  her  ?    See  here.     If  she  keeps  her  prom- 


224  THREE    FEATHERS. 

ise,  tliere's  three  people  miserable.  If  she  breaks  it,  there's  only 
one — and  I  doubt  whether  he's  got  the  capacity  to  be  miserable. 
That's  two  to  one,  or  three  to  one,  is  it  ?  Now  will  you  argue 
with  her,  mother  ?" 

"  Mabyn,  Mabyn,"  the  mother  said,  Avith  a  shake  of  her  head, 
but  evidently  pleased  with  the  voice  of  the  tempter,  *'  your  fancy 
has  run  away  with  you.  Why,  Mr.  Trelyon  has  never  proposed 
to  marry  her." 

"  I  know  he  wants  to,"  said  Mabyn,  confidently. 

"  How  can  you  know  ?" 

"  I'll  ask  him  and  prove  it  to  you." 

"Indeed,"  said  the  mother,  sadly,  "  it  is  no  thought  of  marriage 
that  is  in  Wenna's  head  just  now.  The  poor  girl  is  full  of  remorse 
and  apprehension.  I  think  she  would  like  to  start  at  once  for 
Jamaica,  and  fling  herself  at  Mr.  Roscorla's  feet,  and  confess  her 
fault.  I  am  glad  she  has  to  go  back  to  Eglosilyan ;  that  may  dis- 
tract her  mind  in  a  measure ;  at  present  she  is  suffering  more  than 
she  shows." 

"  Where  is  she  ?" 

"  In  her  own  room,  tired  out  and  fast  asleep.  I  looked  in  a 
few  minutes  ago." 

Mabyn  went  up-stairs,  after  haAdng  seen  that  Jennifer  had  prop- 
erly bestowed  her  box.  Wenna  had  just  risen  from  the  sofa,  and 
was  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  Her  younger  and  taller 
sister  went  blithely  forward  to  her,  kissed  her  as  usual,  took  no 
notice  of  the  sudden  ilush  of  red  that  sprang  into  her  face,  and 
proceeded  to  state,  in  a  business-like  fashion,  all  the  arrangements 
that  had  to  be  made. 

"Have  you  been  enjoying  yourself,  AVenna?"  Mabyn  said,  with 
a  fine  air  of  indifference. 

"  Oh  yes,"  Wenna  answered  ;  adding  hastily,  "  don't  you  think 
mother  is  greatly  improved  ?" 

"  Wonderfully.  I  almost  forgot  she  was  an  invalid.  How  lucky 
you  are  to  be  going  back  to  see  all  the  fine  doings  at  the  Ilall ;  of 
course  they  will  ask  you  up." 

"  They  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  Wenna  said,  with  some 
asperity,  and  with  her  face  turned  aside. 

"  Lord  and  Lady  Amersham  have  already  come  to  the  Hall." 

"Oh,  indeed!" 

"  Yes ;  they  said  some  time  ago  that  there  was  a  good  chance 


MABYN    DREAMS.  225 

of  Mr.  Trelyoii  marrying  the  daughter — the  tall  girl  with  the  yel- 
low hair,  you  remember  ?" 

"And  the  stooping  shoulders?  yes.  I  should  think  they  would 
be  glad  to  get  her  married  to  anybody.     She's  thirty." 

"  Oh,  Wenna !" 

"  Mr.  Trelyon  told  me  so,"  said  Wenna,  sharply. 

"  And  they  are  a  little  surprised,"  continued  Mabyn,  m  the  same 
indifferent  way,  but  watching  her  sister  all  the  while,  "  that  Mr. 
Trelyon  has  remained  absent  until  so  near  the  time.  But  I  sup- 
pose he  means  to  take  Miss  Penaluna  with  him.  She  lives  here, 
doesn't  she  ?  They  used  to  say  there  was  a  chance  of  a  marriage 
there,  too." 

"  Mabyn,  Avhat  do  you  mean  ?"  Wenna  said,  suddenly  and  an- 
grily. "  What  do  I  care  about  Mr.  Trelyon's  marriage  ?  What  is 
it  you  mean  ?" 

But  the  firmness  of  her  lips  began  to  yield ;  there  was  an  omi- 
nous trembling  about  them ;  and  at  the  same  moment  her  younger 
sister  caught  her  to  her  bosom,  and  hid  her  face  there,  and  hushed 
her  wild  sobbing.  She  would  hear  no  confession.  She  knew 
enough.  Nothing  would  convince  her  that  Wenna  had  done  any- 
thing wrong ;  so  there  was  no  use  speaking  about  it. 

"  Wenna,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice,  "  have  you  sent  him  any 
message  ?" 

"  Oh  no,  no,"  the  girl  said,  trembling.  "  I  fear  even  to  think 
of  him ;  and  when  you  mentioned  his  name,  Mabyn,  it  seemed  to 
choke  me.  And  now  I  have  to  go  back  to  Eglosilyan ;  and,  oh  ! 
if  you  only  knew  how  I  dread  that,  Mabyn !" 

Mabyn's  conscience  was  struck.  She  it  was  who  had  done  this 
thing.  She  had  persuaded  her  father  that  her  mother  needed 
another  Aveek  or  fortnight  at  Penzance ;  she  had  frightened  him 
by  telling  him  what  bother  he  would  suffer  if  Wenna  were  not 
back  at  the  inn  during  the  festivities  at  Trelyon  Hall ;  and  then 
she  had  offered  to  go  and  take  her  sister's  post.  George  Rose- 
warne  was  heartily  glad  to  exchange  the  one  daughter  for  the  other. 
Mabyn  was  too  independent.  She  thwarted  him ;  sometimes  she 
insisted  on  his  bestimng  himself.  Wenna,  on  the  other  hand,  went 
about  the  place  like  some  invisible  spirit  of  order,  making  every- 
thing comfortable  for  him,  without  noise  or  worry.  He  was  eas- 
ily led  to  issue  the  necessary  orders ;  and  so  it  was  that  Mabyn 
thought  she  was  doing  her  sister  a  friendly  turn  by  sending  her 

K2 


226  THREE    FEATHERS. 

back  to  Eglosilyan  in  order  to  join  in  congratulating  Harry  Tre- 
lyon  on  his  entrance  into  man's  estate.  Now  Mabyn  found  that 
she  had  only  plunged  her  sister  into  deeper  trouble. 

What  could  be  done  to  save  her  ? 

"  Wenna,"  said  Mabyn,  rather  timidly,  "  do  you  think  he  has 
left  Penzance  ?" 

Wenna  turned  to  her  with  a  sudden  look  of  entreaty  in  her 
face. 

"  I  cannot  bear  to  speak  of  him,  Mabyn.  I  have  no  right  to — 
I  hope  you  will  not  ask  me.  Just  now  I — I  am  going  to  write  a 
letter — to  Jamaica.  I  shall  tell  the  whole  truth.  It  is  for  him  to 
say  what  must  happen  now.  I  have  done  him  a  great  injury.  I 
did  not  intend  it ;  I  had  no  thought  of  it ;  but  my  own  folly 
and  thoughtlessness  brought  it  about,  and  I  have  to  bear  the  pen- 
alty.    I  don't  think  he  need  be  anxious  about  punishing  me." 

She  turned  away  with  a  tired  look  on  her  face,  and  began  to 
get  out  her  writing  materials.  Mabyn  watched  her  for  a  moment 
or  two  in  silence ;  then  she  left  and  went  to  her  own  room,  say- 
ing to  herself,  "  Punishment  ?  AYhoever  talks  of  punishment  will 
have  to  address  himself  to  me." 

AVhen  she  got  to  her  own  room,  she  wrote  these  words  on  a 
piece  of  paper — in  her  firm,  bold,  free  hand — "^  friend  would 
like  to  see  you  for  a  minute  in  front  of  the  Post-office  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  towny  She  put  that  in  an  envelope,  and  addressed  the 
envelope  to  Harry  Trelyon,  Esq.  Still  keeping  her  bonnet  on, 
she  went  down-stairs,  and  had  a  little  general  conversation  with 
her  mother,  in  the  course  of  which  she  quite  casually  asked  the 
name  of  the  hotel  at  which  Mr.  Trelyon  had  been  staying.  Then, 
just  as  if  she  were  going  out  to  the  Parade  to  have  a  look  at  the 
sea,  she  carelessly  left  the  house. 

The  dusk  of  the  evening  was  growing  to  dark.  A  white  mist 
lay  over  the  sea.  The  solitary  lamps  were  being  lit  along  the 
Parade — each  golden  star  shining  sharply  in  the  pale  purple  twi- 
light ;  but  a  more  confused  glow  of  orange  showed  where  the  lit- 
tle town  was  busy  in  its  narrow  thoroughfares.  She  got  hold  of  a 
small  boy,  gave  him  the  letter,  sixpence,  and  his  instructions.  He 
was  to  ask  if  the  gentleman  were  in  the  hotel.  If  not,  had  he 
left  Penzance,  or  would  he  return  that  night?  In  any  case  the 
boy  was  not  to  leave  the  letter  unless  Mr.  Trelyon  were  there. 

The  small  boy  returned  in  a  couple  of  minutes.     The  gentle- 


MABTN    DREAMS.  227 

man  was  tliere,  and  had  taken  the  letter.  So  Mabyn  at  once  set 
out  for  the  centre  of  the  town,  and  soon  found  herself  in  among 
a  mass  of  huddled  houses,  bright  shops,  and  thoroughfares  pretty 
well  filled  with  strolling  sailors,  women  getting  home  from  market, 
and  townspeople  come  out  to  gossip.  She  had  accurately  judged 
that  she  would  be  less  observed  in  this  busy  little  place  than  out 
on  the  Parade ;  and  as  it  was  the  first  appointment  she  had  ever 
made  to  meet  a  young  gentleman  alone,  she  was  just  a  little 
nervous. 

Trelyon  was  there.  He  had  recognized  the  handwriting  in  a 
moment.  He  had  no  time  to  ridicule  or  even  to  think  of  Mabyn's 
school-girl  affectation  of  secrecy ;  he  had  at  once  rushed  off  to 
the  place  of  appointment,  and  that  by  a  short  cut  of  which  she 
had  no  knowledge. 

"Mabyn,  what's  the  matter?  Is  Wenna  ill?"  he  said — forget- 
ting in  his  anxiety  even  to  shake  hands  with  her, 

"  Oh  no,  she  isn't,"  said  Mabyn,  rather  coldly  and  defiantly. 
If  he  was  in  love  with  her  sister,  it  was  for  him  to  make  ad- 
vances. 

"  Oh  no,  she's  pretty  well,  thank  you,"  continued  Mabyn,  in- 
differently. *'  But  she  never  could  stand  much  worry,  I  wanted 
to  see  you  about  that.  She  is  going  back  to  Eglosilyan  to-mor- 
row; and  you  must  promise  not  to  ha^ne  her  asked  up  to  the 
Hall  while  these  grand  doings  are  going  on-*-you  must  not  try 
to  see  her  and  persuade  her — if  you  could  keep  out  of  her  way 
altogether — " 

"  You  know  all  about  it,  then,  Mabyn  ?"  he  said,  suddenly ;  and 
even  in  the  dusky  light  of  the  street  she  could  see  the  rapid  look 
of  gladness  that  filled  his  face.  "And  you  are  not  going  to  be 
vexed,  eh  ?  You'll  remain  friends  with  me,  Mabyn — you  will  tell 
me  how  she  is  from  time  to  time.  Don't  you  see  I  must  go  away 
— and,  by  Jove,  Mabyn,  I've  got  such  a  lot  to  tell  you  !" 

She  looked  around. 

"  I  can't  talk  to  you  here.  Won't  you  walk  back  by  the  other 
road  behind  the  town  ?"  he  said. 

Yes,  she  would  go  willingly  with  him  now.  The  anxiety  of 
his  face,  the  almost  wild  way  in  which  he  seemed  to  beg  for  her 
help  and  friendship,  the  mere  impatience  of  his  manner  pleased 
and  satisfied  her.  This  was  as  it  should  be.  Here  was  no  sweet- 
heart by  line  and  rule,  demonstrating  his  affection  by  argument, 


228  TIIKEE    FEATHERS. 

acting  at  all  times  with  a  studied  propriety ;  but  a  real,  true  lover, 
full  of  passionate  hope  and  as  passionate  fear,  ready  to  do  any- 
thinf ,  and  yet  not  knowing  what  to  do.  Above  all  he  was  "  brave 
and  handsome,  like  a  prince !"  and  therefore  a  fit  lover  for  her 
gentle  sister. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  with  a  great  burst  of  confidence, 
"  I  did  so  fear  that  you  might  be  indifEerent !" 

"  Indifferent !"  said  he,  with  some  bitterness.  "  Perhaps  that 
is  the  best  thing  that  could  happen ;  only  it  isn't  very  likely  to 
happen.  Did  you  ever  sec  anybody  placed  as  I  am  placed,  Ma- 
byn?  Nothing  but  stumbling-blocks  every  way  I  look.  Our 
family  have  always  been  hot-headed  and  hot-tempered ;  if  I  told 
my  grandmother  at  this  minute  how  I  am  situated,  I  believe  she 
would  say,  'Why  don't  you  go  like  a  man,  and  run  off  with  the 
girl  ?'_" 

*'  Yes !"  said  Mabyn,  quite  delighted. 

"But  suppose  you've  bothered  and  worried  the  girl  until  you 
feel  ashamed  of  yourself,  and  she  begs  of  you  to  leave  her,  aren't 
you  bound  in  fair  manliness  to  go  ?" 
•"I  don't  know,"  said  Mabyn,  doubtfully. 

"  Well,  I  do.  It  would  be  very  mean  to  pester  her.  I'm  off 
as  soon  as  these  people  leave  the  Ilall.  But  then  there  are  other 
things.  There  is  your  sister  engaged  to  this  fellow  out  in  Ja- 
maica— " 

"  Isn't  he  a  horrid  Avretch  ?"  said  Mabyn,  between  her  teeth. 

"  Oh,  I  quite  agree  with  you.  If  I  could  have  it  out  with  him 
now — but,  after  all,  what  harm  has  the  man  done  ?  Is  it  any 
wonder  he  Avantcd  to  get  Wenna  for  a  wife  ?" 

"  Oh,  but  he  cheated  her,"  said  Mabyn,  Avarmly.  "  He  per- 
suaded her,  and  reasoned  with  her,  and  argued  her  into  marrying 
him.  And  what  business  had  he  to  tell  her  that  love  between 
young  people  is  all  bitterness  and  trial ;  and  that  a  girl  is  only 
safe  when  she  marries  a  prudent  and  elderly  man  who  will  look 
after  her?  Why,  it  is  to  look  after  him  that  he  wants  her. 
Wenna  is  going  to  him  as  a  housekeeper  and  a  nurse.  Only — 
only,  Mr.  Trelyon,  she  hasn't  gone  to  him  just  yetr 

"  Oh,  I  don't  think  he  did  anything  unfair,"  the  young  man 
said,  gloomily.  "  It  doesn't  matter  anyhow.  What  I  was  going 
to  say  is  that  my  grandmother's  notion  of  what  one  of  our  family 
ought  to  do  in  such  a  case  can't  be  carried  out :  whatever  you 


MABYN    DREAMS.  229 

may  think  of  a  man,  you  can't  go  and  try  to  rob  liim  of  his 
sweetheart  behind  his  back.  Even  supposing  she  was  willing  to 
break  with  him,  which  she  is  not,  you've  at  least  got  to  wait  to 
give  the  fellow  a  chance." 

"There  I  quite  disagree  with  you,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  Mabyn  said, 
warmly.  "  Wait  to  give  him  a  chance  to  make  our  Wenna  mis- 
erable? Is  she  to  be  made  the  prize  of  a  sort  of  fight?  If  I 
were  a  man,  I'd  pay  less  attention  to  my  own  scruples  and  try 
what  I  could  do  for  her —  Oh,  Mr.  Trelyon — I — I  beg  your 
pardon." 

Mabyn  suddenly  stopped  on  the  road,  overwhelmed  with  con- 
fusion. She  had  been  so  warmly  thinking  of  her  sister's  welfare 
that  she  had  been  hurried  into  something  worse  than  an  indis- 
cretion. 

"  "What,  then,  Mabyn  ?"  said  he,  profoundly  surprised. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  have  been  so  thoughtless.  I  had  no 
right  to  assume  that  you  wished — that  you  wished  for  the — for 
the  opportunity — " 

"  Of  marrying  Wenna  ?"  said  he,  with  a  great  stare.  "  But 
what  else  have  we  been  speaking  about?  Or  rather,  I  suppose 
Ave  did  assume  it.  Well,  the  more  I  think  of  it,  Mabyn,  the  more 
I  am  maddened  by  all  these  obstacles,  and  by  the  notion  of  all 
the  things  that  may  happen.  That's  the  bad  part  of  my  going 
away.  How  can  I  tell  what  may  happen  ?  He  might  come  back, 
and  insist  on  her  marrying  him  right  off." 

"  Mr.  Trelyon,"  said  Mabyn,  speaking  very  clearly,  "  there's  one 
thing  you  may  be  sure  of.  If  you  let  me  know  where  you  are, 
nothing  will  happen  to  Wenna  that  you  don't  hear  of." 

He  took  her  hand,  and  pressed  it  in  mute  thankfulness.  He 
was  not  insensible  to  the  value  of  having  so  waim  an  advocate, 
so  faithful  an  ally,  always  at  Wenna's  side. 

*'  How  long  do  letters  take  in  going  to  Jamaica  ?"  Mabyn  asked. 

"  I  don't  know." 

"  I  could  fetch  him  back  for  you  directly,"  said  she,  "  if  you 
would  like  that." 

"  How  ?" 

"  By  writing  and  telling  him  that  you  and  Wenna  were  go- 
ing to  get  married.  AVouldn't  that  fetch  him  back  pretty 
quickly  ?" 

"  I  doubt  it.     He  wouldn't  believe  it  of  Wemia.     Then  he  is  a 


230  THREE    FEATHERS. 

sensible  sort  of  fellow,  and  would  say  to  himself  that,  if  the  news 
was  true,  he  would  have  his  journey  for  nothing.  Besides,  Barnes 
says  that  things  are  looking  w^ell  with  him  in  Jamaica — better 
than  anybody  expected.     He  might  not  be  anxious  to  leave." 

They  had  now  got  back  to  the  Parade,  and  Mabyn  stopped. 

"  I  must  leave  you  now,  Mr.  Trclyon.  Mind  not  to  go  near 
"\Ycnna  w^hen  you  get  to  Eglosilyan — " 

"  She  sha'n't  even  see  me.  I  shall  be  there  only  a  couple  of 
days  or  so ;  then  I  am  going  to  London.  I  am  going  to  have  a 
try  at  the  Civil  Service  examinations — for  first  commissions,  you 
know.  I  shall  only  come  back  to  Eglosilyan  for  a  day  now  and 
again  at  long  intervals.  You  have  promised  to  write  to  me,  Ma- 
byn— well,  I'll  send  you  my  address." 

She  looked  at  him  keenly  as  she  offered  him  her  hand. 

"  I  wouldn't  be  downhearted  if  I  were  you,"  she  said.  "  Very 
odd  things  sometimes  happen," 

"  Oh,  I  sha'n't  be  very  downhearted,"  said  he,  *'  so  long  as  I 
hear  that  she  is  all  right,  and  not  vexing  herself  about  anything." 

"  Good-bye,  Mr.  Trclyon.  I  am  sorry  I  can't  take  any  message 
for  you." 

"  To  her  ?  No,  that  is  impossible.  Good-bye,  Mabyn ;  I  think 
you  are  the  best  friend  I  have  in  the  world." 

"  We'll  see  about  that,"  she  said,  as  she  walked  rapidly  off. 

Her  mother  had  been  sufficiently  astonished  by  her  long  ab- 
sence ;  she  was  now  equally  surprised  by  the  excitement  and 
pleasure  visible  in  her  face. 

"  Oh,  mammy,  do  you  know  whom  I've  seen  ?     Mr.  Trelyon  !" 

"  Mabyn !" 

"  Yes.  We've  walked  right  around  Penzance — all  by  ourselves. 
And  it's  all  settled,  mother." 

"  What  is  all  settled  ?" 

"  The  understanding  between  him  and  me.  An  offensive  and 
defensive  alliance.     Let  tyrants  beware  !" 

She  took  off  her  bonnet,  and  came  and  sat  down  on  the  floor 
by  the  side  of  the  sofa. 

"  Oh,  mammy,  I  see  such  beautiful  things  in  the  future — you 
wouldn't  believe  it  if  I  told  you  all  I  see !  Everybody  else  seems 
determined  to  forecast  such  gloomy  events — there's  Wenna  crying 
and  writing  letters  of  contrition,  and  expecting  all  sorts  of  anger 
and  scolding;   there's  Mr. Trelyon,  haunted  by  the  notion  that 


FERN    IN    DIE    WELT.  231 

Mr.  Roscorla  will  suddenly  come  home  and  marry  Wenna  right 
off ;  and  as  for  him  out  there  in  Jamaica,  I  expect  he'll  be  in  a 
nice  state  when  he  hears  of  all  this.  But  far  on  ahead  of  all  that 
I  see  such  a  beautiful  picture — " 

"  It  is  a  dream  of  yours,  Mabyn,"  her  mother  said ;  but  there 
was  an  imaginative  light  in  her  fine  eyes,  too. 

"  No,  it  is  not  a  dream,  mother ;  for  there  are  so  many  people 
all  wishing  now  that  it  should  come  about,  in  spite  of  these 
gloomy  fancies.  "WTiat  is  there  to  prevent  it,  when  we  are  all 
agreed?  Mr.  Trelyon  and  I  heading  the  list  with  our  important 
alliance ;  and  you,  mother,  would  be  so  proud  to  see  Wenna  hap- 
py ;  and  Mrs.  Trelyon  pets  her  as  if  she  were  a  daughter  already, 
and  everybody — every  man,  woman,  and  child  in  Eglosilyan  would 
rather  see  that  come  about  than  get  a  guinea  apiece.  Oh,  mother, 
if  you  could  see  the  picture  that  I  see  just  now — " 

"  It  is  a  pretty  picture,  Mabyn,"  her  mother  said,  shaking  her 
head.  "  But  when  you  think  of  everybody  being  agreed,  you  for- 
get one,  and  that  is  Wenna  herself.  Whatever  she  thinks  fit  and 
right  to  do,  that  she  is  certain  to  do,  and  all  your  alliances  and 
friendly  wishes  won't  alter  her  decision,  even  if  it  should  break 
her  heart.  And,  indeed,  I  hope  the  poor  child  won't  sink  under 
the  terrible  strain  that  is  on  her :  what  do  you  think  of  her  looks, 
Mabyn  ?" 

"  They  want  mending ;  yes,  they  want  mending,"  Mabyn  ad- 
mitted, apparently  with  some  compunction  ;  but  then  she  added, 
boldly,  "  and  you  know  as  well  as  I  do,  mother,  that  there  is  but 
the  one  way  of  mending  them !" 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

FERN     IN     DIE     WELT. 


If  this  story  were  not  tied  by  its  title  to  the  Duchy  of  Corn- 
wall, it  might  be  interesting  enough  to  follow  Mr.  Roscorla  into 
the  new  world  that  had  opened  all  around  him,  and  say  something 
of  the  sudden  shock  his  old  habits  had  thus  received,  and  of  the 
quite  altered  views  of  his  own  life  he  had  been  led  to  form.  As 
matters  stand,  we  can  only  pay  him  a  flying  visit. 


232  THREE    FEATHERS. 

He  is  seated  in  a  veranda,  fronting  a  garden,  in  wliicli  pome- 
gi'anates  and  oranges  form  the  principal  fruit.  Down  below  him 
some  blacks  are  bringing  provisions  up  to  Yacca  Farm,  along  the 
cactus  avenue  leading  to  the  gate.  Far  away  on  his  right,  the 
last  rays  of  the  sun  are  shining  on  the  summit  of  Blue  Mountain 
Peak ;  and  along  the  horizon  the  reflected  glow  of  the  sky  shines 
on  the  calm  sea.  It  is  a  fine,  still  evening ;  his  cigar  smells  sweet 
in  the  air ;  it  is  a  time  for  indolent  dreaming  and  for  memories 
of  home. 

But  Mr.  Roscorla  is  not  so  much  enraptured  by  thoughts  of 
home  as  he  might  be. 

"  Why,"  he  is  saying  to  himself,  "  my  life  in  Basset  Cottage 
was  no  life  at  all,  but  only  a  waiting  for  death.  Day  after  day 
passed  in  that  monotonous  fashion ;  what  had  one  to  look  for- 
ward to  but  old  age,  sickness,  and  then  the  quiet  of  a  cofiin  ?  It 
was  nothing  but  an  hourly  procession  to  the  grave,  varied  by  rab- 
bit-shooting. This  bold  breaking  away  from  the  narrow  life  of 
such  a  place  has  given  me  a  new  lease  of  existence.  Now  I  can 
look  back  w4th  surprise  on  the  dulness  of  that  Cornish  village, 
and  on  the  regularity  of  habits  which  I  did  not  know  were  habits. 
For  is  not  that  always  the  case?  You  don't  know  that  you  are 
forming  a  habit ;  you  take  each  act  to  be  an  individual  act,  which 
you  may  perform  or  not  at  will ;  but  all  the  same  the  succession  of 
them  is  getting  you  into  its  power,  custom  gets  a  grip  of  your 
ways  of  thinking  as  Avell  as  your  ways  of  living;  the  habit  is 
formed,  and  it  does  not  cease  its  hold  until  it  conducts  you  to 
the  grave.  Try  Jamaica  for  a  cure.  Fling  a  sleeping  man  into 
the  sea,  and  watch  if  he  does  not  wake.  ^Miy,  when  I  look  back 
to  the  slow,  methodical,  commonplace  life  I  led  at  Eglosilyan,  can 
I  wonder  that  I  was  sometimes  afraid  of  Wenna  Eosewarne  re- 
garding me  as  a  somewhat  staid  and  venerable  person,  on  whose 
infirmities  she  ought  to  take  pity  ?" 

He  rose  and  began  to  walk  up  and  down  the  veranda,  putting 
his  foot  down  firmly.  His  loose  linen  suit  was  smart  enough; 
his  complexion  had  been  improved  by  the  sun.  The  conscious- 
ness that  his  business  affairs  were  promising  well  did  not  lessen 
his  sense  of  self-importance. 

"Wcnna  must  be  prepared  to  move  about  a  bit  when  I  go 
back,"  he  was  saying  to  himself.  "  She  must  give  up  that  daily 
attendance  on  cottagers'  children.     If  all  turns  out  well,  I  don't 


FERN    IN    DIE    WELT.  23? 

see  why  we  stould  not  live  in  London ;  for  who  will  know  there 
who  her  father  was  ?  That  consideration  was  of  no  consequence 
so  long  as  I  looked  forward  to  living  the  rest  of  ray  life  in  Basset 
Cottage ;  now  there  are  other  things  to  be  thought  of  when  there 
is  a  chance  of  my  going  among  my  old  friends  again." 

By  this  time,  it  must  be  observed,  Mr.  Roscorla  had  abandoned 
his  hasty  intention  of  returning  to  England  to  upbraid  Wenna 
with  having  received  a  ring  from  Harry  Trelyon.  After  all,  he 
reasoned  with  himself,  the  mere  fact  that  she  should  talk  thus 
simply  and  frankly  about  young  Trelyon  showed  that,  so  far  as 
she  was  concerned,  her  loyalty  to  her  absent  lover  was  unbroken. 
As  for  the  young  gentleman  himself,  he  was,  Mr.  Roscorla  knew, 
fond  of  joking.  He  had  doubtless  thought  it  a  fine  thing  to 
make  a  fool  of  two  or  three  women  by  imposing  on  them  this 
cock-and-bull  story  of  finding  a  ring  by  dredging.  He  Avas  a  little 
angry  that  Wenna  should  have  been  deceived ;  but  then,  he  re- 
flected, these  gypsy  rings  are  so  much  like  one  another  that  the 
young  man  had  probably  got  a  pretty  fair  duplicate.  For  the 
rest,  he  did  not  want  to  quarrel  with  Harry  Trelyon  at  present. 

But  as  he  was  walking  up  and  down  this  veranda,  looking  a 
much  younger  and  brisker  man  than  the  Mr.  Roscorla  who  had 
left  Eglosilyan,  a  servant  came  through  the  house  and  brought 
him  a  couple  of  letters.  He  saw  they  were  respectively  from  Mr. 
Barnes  and  from  Wenna;  and,  curiously  enough,  he  opened  the 
reverend  gentleman's  first — perhaps  as  school-boys  like  to  leave 
the  best  bit  of  a  tart  to  the  last. 

He  read  the  letter  over  carefully;  he  sat  down  and  read  it 
again ;  then  he  put  it  before  him  on  the  table.  He  was  evident- 
ly puzzled  by  it. 

"  What  does  this  man  mean  by  writing  these  letters  to  me  ?" — 
so  Mr.  Roscorla,  who  was  a  cautious  and  reflective  person,  com- 
muned with  himself.  "  He  is  no  particular  friend  of  mine.  He 
must  be  driving  at  something.  Now  he  says  that  I  am  to  be  of 
good  cheer.  I  must  not  think  anything  of  what  he  formerly 
Avrote.  Mr.  Trelyon  is  leaving  Eglosilyan  for  good,  and  his  mother 
will  at  last  have  some  peace  of  mind.  AVhat  a  pity  it  is  that  this 
sensitive  creature  should  be  at  the  mercy  of  the  rude  passions 
of  this  son  of  hers — that  she  should  have  no  protector — that  she 
should  be  allowed  to  mope  herself  to  death  in  a  melancholy  se- 
clusion." ? 


234  THREE    FEATHERS. 

An  odd  fancy  occurred  to  Mr.  Roscorla  at  this  moment,  and  lie 
smiled. 

"  I  think  I  have  got  a  clew  to  Mr.  Barnes's  disinterested  anxiety 
about  my  affairs.  The  widower  would  like  to  protect  the  solitary 
and  unfriended  widow ;  but  the  young  man  is  in  the  way.  The 
young  man  would  be  very  much  in  the  way  if  he  married  Wenna 
Rosewarne ;  the  widower's  fears  drive  him  into  suspicion,  then  into 
certainty ;  nothing  wUl  do  but  that  I  should  return  to  England  at 
once,  and  spoil  this  little  arrangement.  But  as  soon  as  Harry 
Trelyon  declares  his  intention  of  leaving  Eglosilyan  for  good, 
then  my  affairs  may  go  anyhow.  Mr.  Barnes  finds  the  coast 
clear;  I  am  bidden  to  stay  where  I  am.  AVell,  that  is  what  I 
mean  to  do ;  but  now  I  fancy  I  understand  Mr.  Barnes's  generous 
friendship  for  me  and  his  affectionate  correspondence." 

He  turned  to  Wenna's  letter  with  much  compunction.  He 
owed  her  some  atonement  for  having  listened  to  the  disingenu- 
ous reports  of  this  scheming  clergyman.  How  could  he  have  so 
far  forgotten  the  firm,  uncompromising  rectitude  of  the  girl's 
character,  her  sensitive  notions  of  honor,  the  promises  she  had 
given  1 

He  read  the  letter,  and  as  he  read  his  eyes  seemed  to  grow  hot 
with  rage.  He  paid  no  heed  to  the  passionate  contrition  of  the 
trembling  lines ;  to  the  obvious  pain  that  she  had  endured  in  tell- 
ing the  story,  without  concealment,  against  herself ;  to  the  utter 
and  abject  wretchedness  with  which  she  awaited  his  decision.  It 
was  thus  that  she  had  kept  faith  with  him  the  moment  his  back 
was  turned.  Such  were  the  safeguards  afforded  by  a  woman's 
sense  of  honor.  What  a  fool  he  had  been  to  imagine  that  any 
woman  could  remain  true  to  her  promise  so  soon  as  some  other 
object  of  flirtation  and  incipient  love-making  came  in  her  way ! 

He  looked  at  the  letter  again  :  he  could  scarcely  believe  it  to  be 
in  her  handwriting.  This  the  quiet,  reasonable,  gentle,  and  timid 
Wenna  Rosewarne,  whose  virtues  were  almost  a  trifle  too  severe  ? 
The  despair  and  remorse  of  the  letter  did  not  touch  him — he  was 
too  angry  and  indignant  over  the  insult  to  himself — but  it  as- 
tonished him.  The  passionate  emotion  of  those  closely  written 
pages  he  could  scarcely  connect  with  the  shy,  frank,  kindly  lit- 
tle girl  he  remembered ;  it  was  a  cry  of  agony  from  a  tortured 
woman,  and  he  knew  at  least  that  for  her  the  old,  quiet  time  was 
over. 


FERN    IN    DIE    WELT.  235 

He  knew  not  what  to  do.  All  this  that  had  happened  was  new 
to  him ;  it  was  old  and  gone  by  in  England,  and  who  could  tell 
■what  further  complications  might  have  arisen?  But  his  anger 
required  some  vent ;  he  went  indoors,  called  for  a  lamp,  and  sat 
down  and  wrote,  with  a  hard  and  resolute  look  on  his  face : 

"  I  have  received  your  letter.  I  am  not  surprised.  You  are  a 
woman ;  and  I  ought  to  have  known  that  a  woman's  promise  is 
of  value  so  long  as  you  are  by  her  side  to  see  that  she  keeps  it. 
You  ask  what  reparation  you  can  make ;  I  ask  if  there  is  any  that 
you  can  suggest.  No ;  you  have  done  what  cannot  be  undone. 
Do  you  think  a  man  would  marry  a  woman  who  is  in  love  with, 
or  has  been  in  love  with  another  man,  even  if  he  could  overlook 
her  breach  of  faith  and  the  shameless  thoughtlessness  of  her  con- 
duct? My  course  is  clear,  at  all  events.  I  give  you  back  the 
promise  that  you  did  not  know  how  to  keep ;  and  now  you  can 
go  and  ask  the  young  man  who  has  been  making  a  holiday  toy  of 
you  whether  he  will  be  pleased  to  marry  you. 

"Richard  Roscorla." 

He  sealed  and  addressed  this  letter,  still  with  the  firm,  hard  look 
about  his  face ;  then  he  summoned  a  servant — a  tall,  red-haired 
Irishman.     He  did  not  hesitate  for  a  moment. 

"  Look  here,  Sullivan,  the  English  mails  go  out  to-morrow  morn- 
ing— you  must  ride  down  to  the  Post-ofiice,  as  hard  as  you  can 
go ;  and  if  you're  a  few  minutes  late,  see  Mr.  Keith,  and  give  him 
my  compliments,  and  ask  him  if  he  can  possibly  take  this  letter 
if  the  mails  are  not  made  up.  It  is  of  great  importance.  Quick 
now !" 

He  watched  the  man  go  clattering  down  the  cactus  avenue  un- 
til he  was  out  of  sight.  Then  he  turned,  put  the  letters  in  his 
pocket,  went  indoors,  and  again  struck  a  small  gong  that  did 
duty  for  a  bell.  He  wanted  his  horse  brought  around  at  once. 
He  was  going  over  to  Pleasant  Farm  ;  probably  he  would  not  re- 
turn that  night.  He  lit  another  cigar  and  paced  up  and  down 
the  gravel  in  front  of  the  house  until  the  horse  was  brought 
around. 

AVhen  ho  reached  Pleasant  Farm  the  stars  were  shining  over- 
head, and  the  odors  of  the  night-flowers  came  floating  out  of  the 
forest;  but  inside  the  house  there  were  brilliant  lights  and  the 


236  THREE    FEATHERS. 

voices  of  men  talking.  A  baclielor  supper-party  was  going  for- 
ward. Mr.  Roscorla  entered,  and  presently  was  seated  at  tlic 
hospitable  board. 

They  had  never  seen  him  so  gay  ;  and  they  had  certainly  never 
seen  him  so  generously  inclined,  for  Mr.  Roscorla  was  economical 
in  his  habits.  lie  would  have  them  all  to  dinner  the  next  even- 
ing, and  promised  them  such  champagne  as  had  never  been  sent 
to  Kingston  before.  lie  passed  around  his  best  cigars ;  he  hinted 
something  about  unlimited  loo  ;  he  drank  pretty  freely ;  and  was 
altogether  in  a  jovial  humor. 

"  England  ?"  he  said,  when  some  one  mentioned  the  mother 
country.  "  Of  one  thing  I  am  pretty  certain — England  will  never 
see  me  again.  No — a  man  lives  here ;  in  England  he  waits  for 
his  death.  What  life  I  have  got  before  me  I  shall  live  in  Jamaica 
— that  is  my  view  of  the  question." 

"  Then  she  is  coming  out  to  you  ?"  said  his  host,  with  a  grin. 

Roscorla's  face  flushed  with  anger. 

"There  is  no  she  in  the  matter,"  he  said,  abruptly,  almost 
fiercely.     "  I  thank  God  I  am  not  tied  to  any  woman." 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  his  host,  good-naturedly,  who 
did  not  care  to  recall  the  occasions  on  which  Mr.  Roscorla  had 
been  rather  pleased  to  admit  that  certain  tender  ties  bound  him 
to  his  native  land. 

"  No,  there  is  not !"  he  said.  "  What  fool  would  have  his  com- 
foi-t  and  peace  of  mind  depend  on  the  caprice  of  a  woman?  I 
like  your  plan  better,  Rogers :  when  they're  dependent  on  you, 
you  can  do  as  you  like ;  but  when  they've  got  to  be  treated  as 
equals,  they're  the  devil.  No,  my  boys,  you  don't  find  me  going 
in  for  the  angel  in  the  house — she's  too  exacting.  Is  it  to  be 
unlimited?" 

Now,  to  play  unlimited  loo  in  a  reckless  fashion  is  about  the 
easiest  way  of  getting  rid  of  money  that  the  ingenuity  of  man 
has  devised.  The  other  players  Avere  much  better  qualified  to  run 
such  risks  than  Mr.  Roscorla ;  but  none  played  half  so  wildly  as 
he.  I.O.U.'s  went  freely  about.  At  one  point  in  the  evening  the 
floating  paper  bearing  the  signature  of  Mr.  Roscorla  represented 
a  sum  of  about  £300 ;  and  yet  his  losses  did  not  weigh  heavily 
on  him.  At  length  every  one  got  tired,  and  it  was  resolved  to 
stop  short  at  a  certain  hour.  But  from  this  point  the  luck 
changed ;  nothing  could  stand  against  his  cards ;  one  by  one  his 


FERN    IN    DIE    WELT.  237 

I.O.U.'s  were  recalled ;  and  when  they  all  rose  from  the  table  he 
had  won  about  £48.     He  was  not  elated. 

He  went  to  his  room,  and  sat  down  in  an  easy-chair ;  and  then 
it  seemed  to  him  that  he  saw  Eglosilyan  once  more,  and  the  far 
coasts  of  Cornwall,  and  the  broad  uplands  lying  under  a  blue 
English  sky.  That  was  his  home,  and  he  had  cut  himself  away 
from  it,  and  from  the  little  glimmer  of  romance  that  had  recently 
brightened  it  for  him.  Every  bit  of  the  place,  too,  was  associated 
somehow  with  Wenna  Rosewarne.  He  could  see  the  seat,  front- 
ing the  Atlantic,  on  which  she  used  to  sit  and  sew  on  the  fine 
summer  forenoons.  He  could  see  the  rough  road,  leading  over 
the  downs,  on  which  he  met  her  one  wintry  morning,  she  wrapped 
up  and  driving  her  father's  dog-cart,  while  the  red  sun  in  the  sky 
seemed  to  brighten  the  pink  color  the  cold  wind  had  brought  into 
her  cheeks.  He  thought  of  her  walking  sedately  up  to  church; 
of  her  wild  scramblings  among  the  rocks  with  Mabyn ;  of  her  en- 
joyment of  a  fierce  wind  when  it  came  laden  with  the  spray  of 
the  great  rollers  breaking  on  the  cliflE  outside.  What  was  the 
song  she  used  to  sing  to  herself  as  she  went  along  the  quiet  wood- 
land ways  ? — 

' '  Your  Polly  has  never  been  false,  she  declares. 
Since  last  time  we  parted  at  Wapping  Old  Stairs. " 

He  could  not  let  her  go.  All  the  anger  of  wounded  vanity  had 
left  his  heart ;  he  thought  now  only  of  the  chance  he  was  throw- 
ing away.  Where  else  could  he  hope  to  find  for  himself  so  pleas- 
ant a  companion  and  friend,  who  would  cheer  up  his  dull  daily 
life  with  her  warm  sympathies,  her  quick  humor,  her  winning 
womanly  ways  ? 

He  thought  of  that  letter  he  had  sent  away,  and  cursed  his  own 
folly.  So  long  as  she  was  bound  by  her  promise,  he  knew  he 
could  marry  her  when  he  pleased ;  but  now  he  had  voluntarily 
released  her.  In  a  couple  of  weeks  she  would  hold  her  manu- 
mission in  her  hands ;  the  past  would  no  longer  have  any  power 
over  her ;  if  ever  they  met,  they  would  meet  as  mere  acquaint- 
ances. Every  moment  the  prize  slipping  out  of  his  grasp  seemed 
to  grow  more  valuable;  his  vexation  with  himself  grew  intoler- 
able ;  he  suddenly  resolved  that  he  would  make  a  wild  effort  to 
get  back  that  fatal  letter. 

He  had  sat  communing  with  himself  for  over  an  hour ;  all  the 


238  THREE    FEATHERS. 

household  was  fast  asleep.  He  would  not  wake  any  one,  for  fear 
of  being  compelled  to  give  explanations ;  so  he  noiselessly  crept 
along  the  dark  passages  until  he  got  to  the  door,  which  he  care- 
fully opened  and  let  himself  out.  The  night  was  wonderfully 
clear;  the  constellations  throbbing  and  glittering  overhead;  the 
ti*ees  were  black  against  the  pale  sky. 

He  made  his  way  around  to  the  stables,  and  had  some  sort  of 
notion  that  he  would  try  to  get  at  his  horse,  until  it  occurred  to 
him  that  some  suddenly  awakened  servant  or  master  would  prob- 
ably send  a  bullet  whizzing  at  him.  So  he  abandoned  that  enter- 
prise, and  set  ofiE  to  walk,  as  quickly  as  he  could,  down  the  slopes 
of  the  mountain,  with  the  stars  still  shining  over  his  head,  the  air 
sweet  with  powerful  scents,  the  leaves  of  the  bushes  hanging  si- 
lently in  the  semi-darkness. 

How  long  he  walked  he  did  not  know ;  he  was  not  aware  that, 
when  he  reached  the  sleeping  town,  a  pale  gray  was  lightening 
the  eastern  skies.  He  went  to  the  house  of  the  postmaster,  and 
hurriedly  aroused  him.  Mr.  Keith  began  to  think  that  the  ordi- 
narily sedate  Mr.  Roscorla  had  gone  mad. 

"  But  I  must  have  the  letter,"  he  said.  "  Come  now,  Keith, 
you  can  give  it  me  back  if  you  like.  Of  course,  I  know  it  is  very 
wrong ;  but  you'll  do  it  to  oblige  a  friend — " 

"  My  dear  sir,"  said  the  postmaster,  who  could  not  get  time  for 
explanation,  "  the  mails  were  made  up  last  night — " 

"  Yes,  yes ;  but  you  can  open  the  English  bag." 

"  They  were  sent  on  board  last  night." 

"  Then  the  packet  is  still  in  the  harbor ;  you  might  come  down 
with  me — " 

"  She  sails  at  daybreak — " 

"  It  is  not  daybreak  yet,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  looking  up. 

Then  he  saw  how  the  gray  dawn  had  come  over  the  skies,  ban- 
ishing the  stars,  and  he  became  aware  of  the  wan  light  shining 
around  him.  With  the  new  day  his  life  was  altered;  he  would 
no  more  be  as  he  had  been ;  the  chief  aim  and  purpose  of  his 
existence  had  been  changed. 

Walking  heedlessly  back,  he  came  to  a  point  from  which  he  had 
a  distant  view  of  the  harbor  and  the  sea  beyond.  Far  away  out 
on  the  dull  gray  plain  was  a  steamer  slowly  making  her  way  to- 
wards the  cast.  Was  that  the  packet  bound  for  England,  carry- 
ing to  Wenna  Rosewarne  the  message  that  she  was  free  ? 


BLUE    IS    THE    SWEETEST."  239 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

"blue  is  the  sweetest." 

The  following  correspondence  may  now,  witliout  any  great 
breach  of  confidence,  be  published : 

"  Eglosiltan,  Monday  morning. 
"  Dear  Mr.  Trelyon, — 

"  Do  you  know  what  Mr.  Eoscorla  says  in  the  letter  Wenna 
has  just  received  ?  ^Vhy,  that  you  could  not  get  up  that  ring  by 
dredging,  but  that  you  must  have  bought  the  ring  at  Plymouth. 
Just  think  of  the  wicked  old  wretch  fancying  such  things ;  as  if 
you  would  give  a  ring  of  emeralds  to  ani/  one  !  Tell  me  that  this 
is  a  story,  that  I  may  bid  Wenna  contradict  him  at  once.  I  have 
got  no  patience  with  a  man  who  is  given  over  to  such  mean  sus- 
picions. "Yours  faithfully, 

"  Mabyn  Rosewarne." 

"London,  Tuesday  night. 
"  Dear  Mabyn, — 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  Mr.  Eoscorla  is  right.  It  was  a  foolish  trick 
— I  did  not  think  it  would  be  successful,  for  my  hitting  the  size 
of  hor  finger  was  rather  a  stroke  of  luck ;  but  I  thought  it  would 
amuse  her  if  she  did  find  it  out  after  an  hour  or  two.  I  was  afraid 
to  tell  her  afterAvards,  for  she  would  think  it  impertinent.  AVhat's 
to  be  done  ?     Is  she  angry  about  it  ? 

"Yours  sincerely, 

"Harry  Trelyon." 

"Eglosiltan. 
"  Dear  Mr.  Trelyon, — 

"  IIow  could  you  do  such  a  thing !  Why,  to  give  Wenna,  of 
all  people  in  the  world,  an  emerald  ring,  just  after  I  had  got  Mr. 
Roscorla  to  give  her  one,  for  bad  luck  to  himself !     Why,  how 


240  THREE    FEATHERS. 

could  you  do  it !     I  don't  know  what  to  say  about  it — unless  you 
demand  it  back,  and  send  her  one  ivith  sapphires  in  it  at  once. 

"  Yours, 
"  M.  R. 
"  P.  S. — As  quick  as  ever  you  cany 

"London,  Friday  morning. 
"  Dear  Mabyn, — 

*'  Wliy,  you  know  sbc  wouldn't  take  a  sapphire  ring  or  any 
other  from  me.  "  Yours  faithfully, 

"H.  Trelyon." 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Trelyon, — 

"  Pray  don't  lose  any  time  in  writing ;  but  send  me  at  once  a 
sapphire  ring  for  Wenna.  You  have  hit  the  size  once,  and  you 
can  do  it  again ;  but,  in  any  case,  I  have  marked  the  size  on  this 
bit  of  thread,  and  the  jeweller  will  understand.  And  please,  dear 
Mr.  Trelyon,  don't  get  a  very  expensive  one,  but  a  plain,  good  one, 
just  like  what  a  poor  person  like  me  would  buy  for  a  present  if  I 
wanted  to.     And  post  it  at  once,  please — this  is  very  important. 

"  Yours  most  sincerely, 

"  Mabyn  Rosewarne." 

In  consequence  of  this  correspondence,  Mabyn,  one  morning, 
proceeded  to  seek  out  her  sister,  whom  she  found  busy  with  the 
accounts  of  the  Sewing  Club,  which  was  now  in  a  flourishing  con- 
dition.    Mabyn  seemed  a  little  shy. 

"  Oh,  Wenna,"  she  said,  "  I  have  something  to  tell  you.  You 
know  I  wrote  to  ask  Mr.  Trelyon  about  the  ring.  Well,  he's  very, 
very  sorry — oh,  you  don't  know  how  sorry  he  is,  "Wenna ! — but 
it's  quite  true.  He  thought  he  would  please  you  by  getting  the 
ring,  and  that  you  would  make  a  joke  of  it  when  you  found  it 
out ;  and  then  he  was  afraid  to  speak  of  it  afterwards — " 

^Yenna  had  quietly  slipped  the  ring  off  her  finger.  She  be- 
trayed no  emotion  at  the  mention  of  Mr.  Trelyon's  name.  Her 
face  was  a  trifle  red,  that  was  all. 

"  It  was  a  stupid  thing  to  do,"  she  said,  "  but  I  suppose  he 
meant  no  harm.     Will  you  send  him  back  the  ring?" 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  eagerly.     "  Give  me  the  ring,  Wenna." 

She  carefully  wrapped  it  up  in  a  piece  of  paper,  and  put  it  in 


"  BLUE    IS    THE    SWEETEST."  241 

her  pocket.  Any  one  who  knew  her  would  have  seen  by  her 
face  that  she  meant  to  give  that  ring  short  shift.  Then  she  said 
timidly — 

"  You  are  not  very  angry,  Wenna  ?" 

"  No.  I  am  sorry  I  should  have  vexed  Mr.  Roscorla  by  my 
carelessness." 

"  Wenna,"  the  younger  sister  continued,  even  more  timidly, 
*'  do  you  know  what  I've  heard  about  rings — that  when  you've 
worn  one  for  some  time  on  a  finger,  you  ought  never  to  leave  it 
ofiE  altogether ;  I  think  it  affects  the  circulation — or  something  of 
that  kind.  Now,  if  Mr.  Trelyon  were  to  send  you  another  ring, 
just  to — to  keep  the  place  of  that  one  until  Mr.  Roscorla  came 
back—" 

"  Mabyn,  you  must  be  mad  to  think  of  such  a  thing,"  said  her 
sister,  looking  down. 

"  Oh  yes,"  Mabyn  said,  meekly,  "  I  thought  you  wouldn't  like 
the  notion  of  Mr.  Trelyon  giving  you  a  ring.  And  so,  dear  Wen- 
na, I've — I've  got  a  ring  for  you — you  won't  mind  taking  it  from 
me  ;  and  if  you  do  wear  it  on  the  engaged  finger,  why,  that  doesn't 
matter,  don't  you  see — " 

She  produced  the  ring  of  dark  blue  stones,  and  herself  put  it  on 
Wenna's  finger. 

"  Oh,  Mabyn,"  Wenna  said,  " how  could  you  be  so  extravagant! 
And  just  after  you  gave  me  that  ten  shillings  for  the  Leans." 

"  You  be  quiet,"  said  Mabyn,  briskly,  going  off  with  a  light 
look  on  her  face. 

And  yet  there  was  some  determination  about  her  mouth.  She 
hastily  put  on  her  hat  and  went  out.  She  took  the  path  by  the 
hill-side  over  the  little  harbor ;  and  eventually  she  reached  the  face 
of  Black  Cliff,  at  the  foot  of  which  a  gray-green  sea  was  dashing 
in  white  masses  of  foam ;  there  was  no  living  thing  around  her 
but  the  choughs  and  daws,  and  the  white  sea-gulls  sailing  overhead. 

She  took  out  a  large  sheet  of  brown  paper  and  placed  it  on  the 
ground.  Then  she  sought  out  a  bit  of  rock,  weighing  about  two 
pounds.  Then  she  took  out  the  little  parcel  which  contained  the 
emerald  ring,  tied  it  up  carefully  along  with  the  stone  in  the  sheet 
of  brown  paper ;  finally,  she  rose  up  to  her  full  height  and  heaved 
the  whole  into  the  sea.     A  splash  down  there,  and  that  was  all. 

She  clapped  her  hands  with  joy. 

"  And  now,  my  precious  emerald  ring,  that's  the  last  of  you,  I 

L 


242  THUEE    FEATHERS. 

imagine !     And  there  isn't  much  chance  of  a  fish  bringing  you 
back,  to  make  mischief  with  your  ugly  green  stones !" 
Then  she  went  home,  and  wrote  this  note : 

"  Eglosilyan,  Monday. 
"  Dear  Mr.  Trelton, — 

"  I  have  just  thrown  the  emerald  ring  you  gave  "Wcnna  into  the 
sea,  and  she  w^ears  the  other  one  now  on  her  cnrfagcd  finger,  but 
she  thinks  I  bought  it.     Did  you  ever  hear  of  an  old-fashioned 

rhyme  that  is  this  ? — 

'  Oh,  green's  forsaken, 

And  yellow's  forsworn, 
And  blue's  the  sweetest 
Color  that's  worn  ! ' 

You  can't  tell  what  mischief  that  emerald  ring  might  not  have 
done.  But  the  sapphires  that  "Wenna  is  wearing  now  are  perfect- 
ly beautiful ;  and  Wenna  is  not  so  heartbroken  that  she  isn't  very 
proud  of  them.     I  never  saw  such  a  beautiful  ring. 

"  Yours  sincerely, 

"  Mabyn  Rosewarne. 

"  P.  S. — Are  you  never  coming  back  to  Eglosilyan  any  more  ?" 

So  the  days  went  by,  and  Mabyn  waited,  with  a  secret  hope,  to 
see  what  answer  Mr.  Roscorla  would  send  to  that  letter  of  con- 
fession and  contrition  Wcnna  had  written  to  him  at  Penzance. 
The  letter  had  been  written  as  an  act  of  duty,  and  posted  too  ; 
but  there  was  no  mail  going  out  for  ten  days  thereafter,  so  that 
a  considerable  time  had  to  elapse  before  the  answer  came. 

During  that  time  Wcnna  went  about  her  ordinary  duties,  just 
as  if  there  Avere  no  hidden  fire  of  pain  consuming  her  heart ;  there 
was  no  word  spoken  by  her  or  to  her  of  all  that  had  recently  oc- 
curred ;  her  mother  and  sister  were  glad  to  see  her  so  continuous- 
ly busy.  At  first  she  shrank  from  going  up  to  Trelyon  Hall,  and 
would  rather  have  corresponded  with  Mrs.  Trelyon  about  their 
joint  work  of  charity,  but  she  conquered  the  feeling,  and  went  and 
saw  the  gentle  lady,  who  perceived  nothing  altered  or  strange  in 
licr  demeanor.  At  last  the  letter  from  Jamaica  came  ;  and  Mabyn, 
having  sent  it  up  to  her  sister's  room,  waited  for  a  few  minutes, 
and  then  followed  it.  She  was  a  little  afraid,  despite  her  belief 
in  the  virtues  of  the  sapphire  ring. 


"blue  is  the  sweetest."  243 

When  slie  entered  the  room,  she  uttered  a  slight  cry  of  alarm 
and  ran  forward  to  her  sister.  Wenna  was  seated  on  a  chair  by 
the  side  of  the  bed,  but  she  had  thrown  her  arms  out  on  the  bed, 
her  bead  was  between  them,  and  she  was  sobbing  as  if  her  heart 
would  break. 

"  AVenna,  what  is  the  matter  ?  what  has  he  said  to  you?" 

Mabyn's  eyes  were  all  afire  now.  Wenna  would  not  answer. 
She  would  not  even  raise  her  head. 

"  Wenna,  I  want  to  see  that  letter." 

"  Oh  no,  no,"  the  girl  moaned.  "  I  deserve  it ;  he  says  what 
is  true ;  I  want  you  to  leave  me  alone,  Mabyn — you — you  can't 
do  anything  to  help  this — " 

But  Mabyn  had  by  this  time  perceived  that  her  sister  held  in 
her  hand,  crumpled  up,  the  letter  which  was  the  cause  of  this  wild 
outburst  of  grief.  She  went  forward  and  firmly  took  it  out  of 
the  yielding  fingers ;  then  she  turned  to  the  light  and  read  it. 

"  Oh,  if  I  Avere  a  man  !"  she  said ;  and  then  the  very  passion  of 
her  indignation,  finding  no  other  vent,  filled  her  eyes  with  proud 
and  angry  tears.  She  forgot  to  rejoice  that  her  sister  was  now 
free.  She  only  saw  the  cruel  insult  of  those  lines,  and  the  fash- 
ion in  which  it  had  struck  down  its  victim. 

"Wenna,"  she  said,  hotly,  "you  ought  to  have  more  spirit! 
You  don't  mean  to  say  you  care  for  the  opinion  of  a  man  who 
would  write  to  any  girl  like  that !  You  ought  to  be  precious  glad 
that  he  has  shown  himself  in  his  true  colors.  Why,  he  never 
cared  a  bit  for  you — never ! — or  he  would  never  turn  at  a  mo- 
ment's notice  and  insult  you — " 

"  I  have  deserved  it  all ;  it  is  every  word  of  it  true ;  he  could 
not  have  written  otherwise  " — that  was  all  that  AVcnna  would  say 
between  her  sobs. 

"Well,"  retorted  Mabyn,  "after  all  I  am  glad  he  was  angry, 
I  did  not  think  he  had  so  much  spirit.  And  if  this  is  his  opinion 
of  you,  I  don't  think  it  is  worth  heeding,  only  I  hope  he'll  keep  to 
it.  Yes,  I  do !  I  hope  he'll  continue  to  think  you're  everything 
that  is  wicked,  and  remain  out  in  Jamaica.  Wenna,  you  must 
not  lie  and  cry  like  that.  Come,  get  up,  and  Took  at  the  straw- 
berries that  Mr.  Trcwhella  has  sent  you." 

"  Please,  Mabyn,  leave  me  alone,  there's  a  good  girl." 

"  I  shall  be  up  again  in  a  few  minutes,  then ;  I  want  you  to 
drive  me  over  to  St.  Gwennis.     Wenna,  I  must  go  over  to  St. 


244  THREE    FEATHERS. 

Gwennis  before  lunch ;  and  father  won't  let  me  have  anybody  to 
drive ;  do  you  hear,  Wenna  ?" 

Then  she  went  out  and  down  into  the  kitchen,  where  she  both- 
ered Jennifer  for  a  few  minutes  until  slie  had  got  an  iron  heated 
at  the  fire.  With  this  implement  she  carefully  smoothed  out  the 
crumpled  letter,  and  then  she  as  carefully  folded  it,  took  it  up- 
stairs, and  put  it  safely  away  in  her  own  desk.  She  had  just 
time  to  write  a  few  lines : 

"  Dear  Mr,  Trelyon, — 

"  Do  you  know  what  news  I  have  got  to  tell  you  ?  Can  you 
guess  ?  The  engagement  between  Mr.  Roscorla  and  Wenna  is 
broken  off ;  and  I  have  got  in  my  possession  the  letter  in  which 
he  sets  her  free.  If  you  knew  how  glad  I  am  ! — I  should  like  to 
cry  '  Hurrah  !  hurrah  !'  all  through  the  streets  of  Eglosilyan,  and 
I  think  every  one  else  would  do  the  same  if  only  they  knew.  Of 
course,  she  is  very  much  grieved,  for  he  has  been  most  insulting. 
I  cannot  tell  you  the  things  he  has  said ;  you  would  kill  him  if 
you  heard  them.  But  she  will  come  round  very  soon,  I  know ; 
and  then  she  will  have  her  freedom  again,  and  no  more  emerald 
rings,  and  letters  all  filled  with  arguments.  Would  you  like  to 
see  her,  Mr.  Trelyon  ?  But  don't  come  yet — not  for  a  long  time 
— she  would  only  get  angry  and  obstinate.  I'll  tell  you  when  to 
come ;  and  in  the  mean  time,  you  know,  she  is  still  wearing  your 
ring,  so  that  you  need  not  be  afraid.  How  glad  I  shall  be  to  see 
you  again  !  "  Yours  most  faithfully, 

"  Mabyn  Rosewarne." 

She  went  down-stairs  quickly,  and  put  this  letter  in  the  letter- 
box. There  was  an  air  of  triumph  on  her  face.  She  had  worked 
for  this  result — aided  by  the  mysterious  powers  of  fate,  whom 
she  had  conjured  to  serve  her — and  now  the  welcome  end  of  her 
labors  had  arrived.  She  bade  the  hostler  get  out  the  dog-cart,  as 
if  she  were  the  Queen  of  Sheba  going  to  visit  Solomon,  She 
went  marching  up  to  lier  sister's  room,  announcing  her  approach 
with  a  more  than  ordinarily  accurate  rendering  of  "  Oh,  the  men 
of  merry,  merry  England !"  so  that  a  stranger  might  have  fancied 
that  he  heard  the  very  voice  of  Harry  Trelyon,  with  all  its  unme- 
lodious  vigor,  ringing  along  the  passage. 


THE    EXILE  S    RETURN.  245 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE     exile's     return. 

Perhaps  you  have  been  away  in  distant  parts  of  the  earth, 
each  day  crowded  with  new  experiences  and  slowly  obscuring  the 
clear  pictures  of  England  with  which  you  left ;  perhaps  you  have 
only  been  hidden  away  in  London,  amid  its  ceaseless  noise,  its 
strange  faces,  its  monotonous  recurrence  of  duties ;  let  us  say,  in 
any  case,  that  you  are  returning  home  for  a  space  to  the  quiet  of 
northern  Cornwall. 

You  look  out  of  the  high  window  of  a  Plymouth  hotel  early 
in  the  morning ;  there  is  promise  of  a  beautiful  autumn  day.  A 
ring  of  pink  mist  lies  around  the  horizon ;  overhead  the  sky  is 
clear  and  blue ;  the  white  sickle  of  the  moon  still  lingers  visible. 
The  new  warmth  of  the  day  begins  to  melt  the  hoar-frost  in  the 
meadows,  and  you  know  that  out  beyond  the  town  the  sun  is 
shining  brilliantly  on  the  wet  grass,  with  the  brown  cattle  glcam- 
incf  red  in  the  lisfht. 

You  leave  the  great  world  behind,  with  all  its  bustle,  crowds, 
and  express  engines,  Avhen  you  get  into  the  quiet  little  train  that 
takes  you  leisurely  up  to  Launceston,  through  woods,  by  the  sides 
of  rivers,  over  great  valleys.  There  is  a  sense  of  repose  about  this 
railway  journey.  The  train  stops  at  any  number  of  small  stations 
— apparently  to  let  the  guard  have  a  chat  with  the  station-mas- 
ter— and  then  jogs  on  in  a  quiet,  contented  fashion.  And  on 
such  an  autumn  day  as  this,  that  is  a  beautiful,  still,  rich-colored, 
and  English-looking  country  through  which  it  passes.  Here  is  a 
deep  valley,  all  glittering  with  the  dew  and  the  sunlight.  Down 
in  the  hollow  a  farm-yard  is  half  hidden  behind  the  yellowing 
elms ;  a  boy  is  driving  a  flock  of  white  geese  along  the  twisting 
road ;  the  hedges  are  red  with  the  withering  briers.  Up  here,  along 
the  hill-sides,  the  woods  of  scrub-oak  are  glowing  with  every  im- 
aginable hue  of  gold,  crimson,  and  bronze,  except  where  a  few 
dark  firs  appear,  or  where  a  tuft  of  broom,  pure  and  bright  in  its 


246  THREE    FEATHERS. 

green,  stands  out  among  tlie  faded  brackens.  The  gorse  is  pro- 
fusely in  bloom — it  always  is  in  Cornwall.  Still  further  over 
there  are  sheep  visible  on  the  uplands ;  beyond  these  again  the 
bleak  brown  moors  rise  into  peaks  of  hills ;  overhead  the  silent 
blue,  and  all  around  the  sweet,  fresh  country  air. 

With  a  sharp  whistle  the  small  train  darts  into  an  opening  in 
the  hills ;  here  we  are  in  the  twilight  of  a  great  wood.  The  tall 
trees  are  becoming  bare ;  the  ground  is  red  with  the  fallen  leaves ; 
through  the  branches  the  blue-winged  jay  flies,  screaming  harsh- 
ly ;  you  can  smell  the  damp  and  resinous  odors  of  the  ferns.  Out 
again  we  get  into  the  sunlight ;  and  lo !  a  rushing,  brawling,  nar- 
row stream,  its  clear  flood  swaying  this  way  and  that  by  the  big 
stones;  a  Avail  of  rock  overhead  crowned  by  glowing  furze;  a 
herd  of  red  cattle  sent  scampering  through  the  bright-green  grass. 
Now  we  get  slowly  into  a  small  white  station,  and  catch  a  glimpse 
of  a  tiny  town  over  in  the  valley ;  again  we  go  on  by  wood  and 
valley,  by  rocks  and  streams  and  farms.  It  is  a  pleasant  drive  on 
such  a  morning. 

In  one  of  the  carriages  in  this  train  Master  Harry  Trelyon  and 
his  grandmother  were  seated.  How  he  had  ever  persuaded  her 
to  go  with  him  to  Cornwall  by  train  was  mysterious  enough ;  for 
the  old  lady  thoroughly  hated  all  such  modern  devices.  It  was 
her  custom  to  go  travelling  all  over  the  country  with  a  big,  old- 
fashioned  phaeton  and  a  pair  of  horses  ;  and  her  chief  amusement 
during  these  Icaig  excursions  was  driving  up  to  any  big  house  she 
took  a  fancy  to,  in  order  to  see  if  there  were  a  chance  of  its  being 
let  to  her.  The  faithful  old  servant  who  attended  her,  and  who 
was  about  as  old  as  the  coachman,  had  a  great  respect  for  his 
mistress;  but  sometimes  he  swore — inaudibly — when  she  ordered 
him  to  make  the  usual  inquiry  at  the  front-door  of  some  noble 
lord's  country  residence,  which  he  would  as  soon  have  thought  of 
letting  as  of  forfeiting  his  seat  in  the  House  of  Peers  or  his  hopes 
of  heaven.  But  the  carriage  and  horses  were  coming  down  all 
the  same  to  Eglosilyan,  to  take  her  back  again. 

"  Harry,"  she  was  saying  at  this  moment,  "  the  longer  I  look 
at  you,  the  more  positive  I  am  that  you  are  ill.  I  don't  like  your 
color;  you  are  thin  and  careworn  and  anxious.  What  is  the  mat- 
ter with  you  ?" 

"  Going  to  school  again  at  twenty-one  is  hard  work,  grand- 
mother," he  said.     "Don't  you  try  it.     But  I  don't  think  I'm 


THE    exile's    RETURN'.  24*7 

particularly  ill ;  few  folks  can  keep  a  complexion  like  yours, 
grandmother." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  old  lady,  rather  pleased,  "  many's  the  time  they 
said  that  about  me,  that  there  wasn't  much  to  complain  of  in  my 
looks ;  and  that's  what  a  girl  thinks  of  then,  and  sweethearts  and 
balls,  and  all  the  other  men  looking  savage  when  she's  dancing  with 
any  one  of  them.  AVell,  well,  Harry  ;  and  what  is  all  this  about 
you  and  the  young  lady  your  mother  has  made  such  a  pet  of? 
Oh  yes,  I  have  my  suspicions ;  and  she's  engaged  to  another  man, 
isn't  she  ?  Your  grandfather  would  have  fought  him,  I'll  be 
bound ;  but  we  live  in  a  peaceable  way  now — well,  well,  no  mat- 
ter; but  hasn't  that  got  something  to  do  with  your  glum  looks, 
Harry  ?" 

"  I  tell  you,  grandmother,  I  have  been  hard  at  work  in  Lon- 
don. You  can't  look  very  brilliant  after  a  few  months  in  Lon- 
don." 

"And  what  keeps  you  in  London  at  this  time  of  the  year?" 
said  this  plain-spoken  old  lady.  "  Your  fancy  about  getting  into 
the  army  ?  Nonsense,  man ;  don't  tell  me  such  a  tale  as  that. 
There's  a  woman  in  the  case ;  a  Trelyon  never  puts  himself  so 
much  about  from  any  other  cause.  To  stop  in  town  at  this  time 
of  the  year !  Why,  your  grandfather  and  your  father,  too,  Avould 
have  laughed  to  hear  of  it.  I  haven't  had  a  brace  of  birds  or  a 
pheasant  sent  me  since  last  autumn — not  one.  Come,  sir,  be 
frank  with  me.     I'm  an  old  woman,  but  I  can  hold  my  tongue." 

"  There's  nothing  to  tell,  grandmother,"  he  said.  "  You  just 
about  hit  it  in  that  guess  of  yours — I  suppose  Juliott  told  you. 
Well,  the  girl  is  engaged  to  another  man  ;  and  what  more  is  to 
be  said  ?" 

"  The  man's  in  Jamaica  ?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Why  are  you  going  down  to-day  ?" 

"  Only  for  a  brief  visit :  I've  been  a  long  time  away." 

The  old  lady  sat  silent  for  some  time.  She  had  heard  of  the 
whole  affair  before  ;  but  she  wished  to  have  the  I'umor  confirmed. 
And  at  first  she  was  sorely  troubled  that  her  grandson  should 
contemplate  marrying  an  innkeeper's  daughter,  however  intelli- 
gent, amiable,  and  well-educated  the  young  lady  might  be ;  but 
she  knew  the  Trelyons  pretty  well,  and  knew  that,  if  he  had  made 
up  his  mind  to  it,  argument  and  remonstrance  would  be  useless. 


248  THREE    FEATHERS. 

Moreover,  slie  had  a  great  affection  for  this  young  man,  and  was 
strongly  disposed  to  sympathize  with  any  wish  of  his.  She  grew 
in  time  to  have  a  great  interest  in  Miss  Wenna  Eosewarne ;  at 
this  moment  the  chief  object  of  her  visit  Avas  to  make  her  ac- 
quaintance. Slie  grew  to  pity  young  Trelyon  in  his  disappoint- 
ment, and  was  inclined  to  believe  that  the  person  in  Jamaica  was 
something  of  a  public  enemy.  The  fact  was,  her  mere  liking  for 
]ier  grandson  would  have  converted  her  to  a  sympathy  with  the 
wildest  project  he  could  have  formed. 

"  Dear,  dear,"  she  said,  "  what  awkward  things  engagements 
are  when  they  stand  in  your  Avay.  Shall  I  tell  you  the  truth  ?  I 
was  just  about  as  good  as  engaged  to  John  Cholmondeley  when 
I  gave  myself  up  to  your  grandfather — but  there,  when  a  girl's 
heart  pulls  her  one  way,  and  her  promise  pulls  her  another  way, 
she  needs  to  be  a  very  firm-minded  young  woman,  if  she  means  to 
hold  fast.  John  Cholmondeley  was  as  good-hearted  a  young 
fellow  as  ever  lived — yes,  I  will  say  that  for  him ;  and  I  was  might- 
ily sorry  for  liim ;  but — but  you  see,  that's  how  things  come 
about.  Dear,  dear,  that  evening  at  Bath — I  remember  it  as  well 
as  if  it  was  yesterday — and  it  was  only  two  months  after  I  had 
run  away  with  your  grandfather.  Yes,  there  was  a  ball  that 
night ;  and  we  had  kept  very  quiet,  you  know,  after  coming  back; 
but  this  time  your  grandfather  had  set  liis  heart  on  taking  me 
out  before  everybody,  and,  you  know,  he  had  to  have  his  way. 
As  sure  as  I  live,  Harry,  the  first  man  I  saw  was  John  Cholmon- 
deley, just  as  white  as  a  ghost — they  said  he  had  been  drinking 
hard  and  gambling  pretty  nearly  the  whole  of  these  two  months. 
He  wouldn't  come  near  me.  He  wouldn't  take  the  least  notice 
of  me.  The  whole  night  he  pretended  to  be  vastly  gay  and  mer- 
ry ;  he  danced  with  everybod}' ;  but  his  eyes  never  came  near  me. 
Well,  you  know  what  a  girl  is — that  vexed  me  a  little  bit ;  for 
there  never  Avas  a  man  such  a  slave  to  a  woman  as  he  was  to  me 
— dear,  dear,  the  Avay  my  father  used  to  laugh  at  him,  until  he 
got  Avild  Avith  anger.  "Well,  I  Avent  up  to  him  at  last,  Avhen  he 
Avas  by  himself,  and  I  said  to  him,  just  in  a  careless  way,  you 
knoAV, '  John,  aren't  you  going  to  dance  Avith  me  to-night  ?'  "Well, 
do  you  know,  his  face  got  quite  Avhite  again ;  and  he  said — I  re- 
member the  A'ery  Avords,  as  cold  as  ice — '  Madam,'  says  he,  '  I  am 
glad  to  find  that  your  hurried  trip  to  Scotland  has  impaired  nei- 
ther your  good  looks  nor  your  self-command.'    Wasn't  it  cruel  of 


THE  exile's  return.  249 

him  ? — but  then,  poor  fellow,  lie  had  been  badly  used,  I  admit 
that.  Poor  young  fellow,  he  never  did  marry ;  and  I  don't  be- 
lieve he  ever  forgot  me  to  his  dying  day.  Many  a  time  I'd  like 
to  have  told  him  all  about  it ;  and  how  there  was  no  use  in  my 
marrying  him  if  I  liked  another  man  better ;  but  though  we  met 
sometimes,  especially  when  he  came  down  about  the  Reform  Bill 
time — and  I  do  believe  I  made  a  red-hot  Radical  of  him — he  was 
always  very  proud,  and  I  hadn't  the  heart  to  go  back  on  the  old 
story.  But  I'll  tell  you  what  your  grandfather  did  for  him — he 
got  him  returned  at  the  very  next  election,  and  he  on  the  other 
side  too ;  and  after  a  bit  a  man  begins  to  think  more  about  get- 
ting a  seat  in  Parliament  than  about  courting  an  empty-headed 
girl.     I  have  met  this  Mr.  Roscorla,  haven't  I  ?" 

"  Of  course  you  have." 

"A  good-looking  man  rather,  with  a  fresh  complexion  and 
gray  hair?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  good  looks,"  said  Trelyon, 
shortly.  "I  shouldn't  think  people  would  call  him  an  Adonis. 
But  there's  no  accounting  for  tastes." 

"  Perhaps  I  may  have  been  mistaken,"  the  old  lady  said  ;  "  but 
there  was  a  gentleman  at  Plymouth  Station  who  seemed  to  be 
something  like  what  I  can  recall  of  Mr.  Roscorla — you  didn't  see 
him,  I  suppose." 

"  At  Plymouth  Station,  grandmother  ?"  the  young  man  said, 
becoming  rather  imeasy. 

"  Yes.  He  got  into  the  train  just  as  we  came  up.  A  neatly 
dressed  man,  gray  hair,  and  a  healthy-looking  face — I  must  have 
seen  him  somewhere  about  here  before." 

"  Roscorla  is  in  Jamaica,"  said  Trelyon,  positively. 

Just  at  this  moment  the  train  slowed  into  Launceston  Station, 
and  the  people  began  to  get  out  on  the  platform, 

"  That  is  the  man  I  mean,"  said  the  old  lady. 

Trelyon  turned  and  stared.  There,  sure  enough,  was  Mr.  Ros- 
corla, looking  not  one  whit  different  from  the  precise,  elderly, 
fresh-colored  gentleman  who  had  left  Cornwall  some  seven  months 
before. 

"Good  Lord,  Harry!"  said  the  old  lady,  nervously  looking  at 
her  grandson's  face,  "  don't  have  a  fight  here  !" 

The  next  second  Mr.  Roscorla  wheeled  around,  anxious  about 
some  luggage,  and  now  it  was  his  turn  to  stare  in  astonishment 

L2 


250  THREE    FEATHERS. 

and  anger — anger,  because  lie  had  been  told  that  Harry  Trelyon 
never  came  near  Cornwall,  and  his  first  sudden  suspicion  was  that 
he  had  been  deceived.  All  this  had  happened  in  a  minute.  Tre- 
lyon was  the  first  to  regain  his  self-command.  lie  walked  delib- 
erately forward,  held  out  his  hand,  and  said — 

"  Hillo,  Roscorla ;  back  in  England  again  ?  I  didn't  know  you 
were  coming." 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  with  his  face  grown  just  a  trifle  gray- 
er— "  no,  I  suppose  not." 

In  point  of  fact  he  had  not  informed  any  one  of  his  coming. 
He  had  prepared  a  little  surprise.  The  chief  motive  of  his  return 
was  to  get  Wenna  to  cancel  forever  that  unlucky  letter  of  release 
he  had  sent  her,  which  he  had  done  more  or  less  successfully  in 
subsequent  correspondence ;  but  he  had  also  hoped  to  introduce 
a  little  romanticism  into  his  meeting  with  her.  He  would  enter 
Eglosilyan  on  foot.  He  would  wander  down  to  the  rocks  at  the 
mouth  of  the  harbor,  on  the  chance  of  finding  Wenna  there. 
Mio'ht  he  not  hear  her  humming  to  herself,  as  she  sat  and  sewed, 
some  snatch  of  "  Your  Polly  has  never  been  false,  she  declares  " 
— or  was  that  the  very  last  ballad  in  the  world  she  Avould  now 
think  of  singing  ?  Then  the  delight  of  regarding  again  the  plac- 
id, bright  face  and  earnest  eyes,  of  securing  once  more  a  perfect 
understanding  between  them,  and  their  glad  return  to  the  inn. 

All  this  had  been  spoiled  by  the  appearance  of  this  young  man  : 
he  loved  him  none  the  more  for  that. 

"  I  suppose  you  haven't  got  a  trap  waiting  for  you  ?"  said  Tre- 
lyon, with  cold  politeness.     "  I  can  drive  you  over,  if  you  like." 

He  could  do  no  less  than  make  the  offer ;  the  other  had  no  al- 
ternative but  to  accept.  Old  Mrs.  Trelyon  heard  this  compact 
made  with  considerable  dread. 

Indeed,  it  was  a  dismal  drive  over  to  Eglosilyan,  bright  as  the 
forenoon  was.  The  old  lady  did  her  best  to  be  courteous  to  Mr. 
Roscorla  and  cheerful  with  her  grandson ;  but  she  was  oppressed 
by  the  belief  that  it  was  only  her  presence  that  had  so  far  re- 
strained the  two  men  from  giving  vent  to  the  rage  and  jealousy 
that  filled  their  hearts.     The  conversation  kept  up  was  singular. 

"  Are  you  going  to  remain  in  England  long,  Roscorla?"  said  the 
younger  of  the  two  men,  making  an  unnecessary  cut  at  one  of  the 
two  horses  he  was  driving. 

"  Don't  know  yet.     Perhaps  I  may." 


THE    exile's    return.  251 

"  Because,"  said  Trelyon,  witli  angry  impertinence,  "  I  suppose 
if  you  do  you'll  have  to  look  around  for  a  housekeeper." 

The  insinuation  was  felt ;  and  Roscorla's  eyes  looked  anything 
but  pleasant  as  he  answered — 

"  You  forget  I've  got  Mrs.  Cornish  to  look  after  my  house." 

"  Oh,  Mrs.  Cornish  is  not  much  of  a  companion  for  you." 

"  Men  seldom  want  to  make  companions  of  their  housekeepers,'* 
was  the  retort,  uttered  rather  hotly. 

"But  sometimes  they  wish  to  have  the  two  offices  combined, 
for  economy's  sake." 

At  this  juncture  Mrs.  Trelyon  struck  in,  somewhat  wildly,  with 
a  remark  about  an  old  ruined  house,  which  seemed  to  have  had  at 
one  time  a  private  still  inside :  the  danger  was  staved  off  for  the 
moment. 

"  Harry,"  she  said,  "mind  what  you  are  about ;  the  horses  seem 
very  fresh." 

"  Yes,  they  like  a  good  run  ;  I  suspect  they've  had  precious 
little  to  do  since  I  left  Cornwall." 

Did  she  fear  that  the  young  man  was  determined  to  throw  them 
into  a  ditch  or  down  a  precipice,  with  the  wild  desii'e  of  killing 
his  rival  at  any  cost?  If  she  had  known  the  whole  state  of  af- 
fairs between  them — the  story  of  the  emerald  ring,  for  example 
— she  would  have  understood  at  least  the  difficulty  experienced 
by  these  two  men  in  remaining  decently  civil  towards  each 
other. 

So  they  passed  over  the  high  and  wide  moors,  until  far  ahead 
they  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  blue  plain  of  the  sea.  Mr.  Roscorla 
relapsed  into  silence ;  he  was  becoming  a  trifle  nervous.  He  was 
probably  so  occupied  with  anticipations  of  his  meeting  with  Wen- 
na  that  he  failed  to  notice  the  objects  around  him — and  one  of 
these,  now  become  visible,  was  a  very  handsome  young  lady,  Avho 
was  coming  smartly  along  a  wooded  lane,  carrying  a  basket  of 
bright-colored  flowers. 

"  Why,  here's  Mabyn  Rosewarne.     I  must  wait  for  her." 

Mabyn  had  seen  at  a  distance  Mrs.  Trelyon's  gray  horses ;  she 
guessed  that  the  young  master  had  come  back,  and  that  he  had 
brought  some  strangers  with  him.  She  did  not  like  to  be  stared 
at  by  strangers.  She  came  along  the  path,  with  her  eyes  flxed  on 
the  ground ;  she  thought  it  impertinent  of  Harry  Trelyon  to  wait 
to  speak  to  her. 


252  THREE    FEATHERS, 

"  Oh,  Mabyn,"  he  cried,  "  you  must  let  me  drive  you  home ! 
And  let  me  introduce  you  to  my  grandmother.  There  is  some 
one  else  -whom  you  know." 

The  young  lady  bowed  to  Mrs.  Trelyon  ;  then  she  stared,  and 
changed  color  somewhat,  when  she  saw  Mr.  Koscorla ;  then  she 
was  helped  up  into  a  seat. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Trelyon  ?"  she  said.  "  I  am  very  glad 
to  see  you  have  come  back.     How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Roscorla  ?" 

She  shook  hands  with  them  both,  but  not  quite  in  the  same 
fashion. 

*'  And  you  have  sent  no  message  that  you  were  coming  ?"  she 
said,  looking  her  companion  straight  in  the  face. 

"  No — no,  I  did  not,"  he  said,  angry  and  embarrassed  by  the 
open  enmity  of  the  girl.  "  I  thought  I  should  surprise  you 
all—" 

"  You  have  surprised  me,  anyway,"  said  Mabyn,  "  for  how  can 
you  be  so  thoughtless  ?  Wenna  has  been  very  ill — I  tell  you,  she 
lias  been  very  ill  indeed,  though  she  has  said  little  about  it,  and 
the  least  thing  upsets  her.  How  can  you  think  of  frightening 
her  so  ?  Do  you  know  what  you  are  doing  ?  I  wish  you  would 
go  away  back  to  Launceston,  or  London,  and  write  her  a  note 
there,  if  you  are  coming,  instead  of  trying  to  frighten  her !" 

This  was  the  language,  it  appeared  to  Mr.  Roscorla,  of  a  virago ; 
only  viragos  do  not  ordinarily  have  tears  in  their  eyes,  as  was  the 
case  with  Mabyn,  when  she  finished  her  indignant  appeal. 

"  Mr.  Trelyon,  do  you  think  it  is  fair  to  go  and  frighten  "Wen- 
na so  ?"  she  demanded. 

"  It  is  none  of  my  business,"  Trelyon  answered,  with  an  air  as 
if  he  had  said  to  his  rival,  "  Yes,  go  and  kill  the  girl !  You  are 
a  nice  sort  of  gentleman,  to  come  down  from  London  to  kill  the 
girl !" 

"  This  is  absurd,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  contemptuously,  for  he 
was  stung  into  reprisal  by  the  persecution  of  these  two ;  "  a  girl 
isn't  so  easily  frightened  out  of  her  wits.  Why,  she  must  have 
known  that  my  coming  home  was  at  any  time  probable." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  she  feared  that  it  was,"  said  Mabyn,  partly  to 
herself ;  for  once  she  was  afraid  of  speaking  out. 

Presently,  however,  a  brighter  light  came  over  the  girl's  face. 

"  AVhy,  1  quite  forgot,"  she  said,  addressing  Harry  Trelyon  ;  "  I 
quite  forgot  that  Wenna  was  just  going  up  to  Trelyon  Hall  when 


THE  exile's  return.  253 

I  left.  Of  course,  she  will  be  up  there.  You  will  be  able  to  tell 
her  that  Mr.  Roscorla  has  arrived,  Avon't  you  ?" 

The  malice  of  this  suggestion  Avas  so  apparent  that  the  young 
gentleman  in  front  could  not  help  grinning  at  it ;  fortunately,  his 
face  could  not  be  seen  by  his  rival.  What  he  thought  of  the  whole 
arrangement  can  only  be  imagined. 

And  so,  as  it  happened,  Mr.  Roscorla  and  his  friend  Mabyn  were 
dropped  at  the  inn ;  while  Harry  Trelyon  drove  his  grandmother 
up  and  on  to  the  Hall. 

"  Well,  Harry,"  the  old  lady  said,  "  I  am  glad  to  be  able  to 
breathe  at  last ;  I  thought  you  two  were  going  to  kill  each  oth- 
er." 

"  There  is  no  fear  of  that,"  the  young  man  said ;  "  that  is  not 
the  way  in  which  this  affair  has  to  be  settled.  It  is  entirely  a 
matter  for  her  decision — and  look  how  everything  is  in  his  favor. 
I  am  not  even  allowed  to  say  a  word  to  her ;  and  even  if  I  could, 
he  is  a  deal  cleverer  than  me  in  argument.  He  would  argue  my 
head  off  in  half  an  hour." 

"  But  you  don't  turn  a  girl's  heart  around  by  argument,  Harry. 
When  a  girl  has  to  choose  between  a  young  lover  and  an  elderly 
one,  it  isn't  always  good-sense  that  directs  her  choice.  Is  Miss 
Wenna  Rosewarne  at  all  like  her  sister  ?" 

"  She's  not  such  a  tomboy,"  he  said  ;  "  but  she  is  quite  as 
straightforward,  and  proud,  and  quick  to  tell  you  Avhat  is  the  right 
thing  to  do.  There's  no  sort  of  shamming  tolerated  by  these 
two  girls.  But  then  Wenna  is  gentle  and  quieter,  and  more  soft 
and  lovable  than  Mabyn — in  my  fancy,  you  know ;  and  she  is 
more  humorous  and  clever,  so  that  she  never  gets  into  those 
school-girl  rages.  But  it  is  really  a  shame  to  compare  them  like 
that ;  and,  indeed,  if  any  one  said  the  least  thing  against  one  of 
these  girls,  the  other  would  precious  soon  make  him  regret  the 
day  he  was  born.  You  don't  catch  me  doing  that  with  either  of 
them ;  I've  had  a  warning  already,  when  I  hinted  that  Mabyn 
might  probably  manage  to  keep  her  husband  in  good  order.  And 
so  she  would,  I  believe,  if  the  husband  were  not  of  the  right  sort ; 
but  when  she  is  really  fond  of  anybody,  she  becomes  their  slave 
out-and-out.  There  is  nothing  she  wouldn't  do  for  her  sister ; 
and  her  sister  thinks  there's  nobody  in  the  world  like  Mabyn. 
So  you  see — " 

He  stopped  in  the  middle  of  this  sentence. 


254  THREE    FEATHERS. 

*'  Grandmother,"  he  said,  ahnost  in  a  -whisper,  "  here  she  is  com- 
ing along  the  road." 

"  Miss  Eosewarne  ?" 

*'  Yes :  shall  I  introduce  you  ?" 

"  If  you  like." 

^Yenna  was  coming  down  the  steep  road,  between  the  high 
hedges,  with  a  small  girl  on  each  side  of  her,  whom  she  was  lead- 
ing by  the  hand.  She  was  gayly  talking  to  them ;  you  could 
hear  the  children  laughing  at  what  she  said.  Old  Mrs.  Trelyon 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  this  merry  young  lady,  with  the  light 
and  free  step,  the  careless  talk,  and  fresh  color  in  her  face,  was 
certainly  not  dying  of  any  love-affair. 

"  Take  the  reins,  grandmother,  for  a  minute." 

He  had  leaped  down  into  the  road,  and  was  standing  before 
her,  almost  ere  she  had  time  to  recognize  him.  For  a  moment  a 
quick  gleam  of  gladness  shone  on  her  face ;  then,  almost  instinc- 
tively, she  seemed  to  shrink  from  him,  and  she  was  reserved,  dis- 
tant, and  formal. 

lie  introduced  her  to  the  old  lady,  who  said  something  nice  to 
her  about  her  sister.  The  young  man  was  looking  wistfully  at  her, 
troubled  at  heart  that  she  treated  him  so  coldly. 

*'  I  have  got  to  break  some  news  to  you,"  he  said ;  "  perhaps 
you  will  consider  it  good  news." 

She  looked  up  quickly. 

"Nothing  has  happened  to  anybody — only  some  one  has  ar- 
rived.    Mr.  Roscorla  is  at  the  inn." 

She  did  not  flinch.  He  Avas  vexed  with  her  that  she  showed 
no  sign  of  fear  or  dislike.  On  the  contrary,  she  quickly  said  that 
she  must  then  go  down  to  the  inn  ;  and  she  bade  them  both  good- 
bye, in  a  placid  and  ordinary  way ;  while  he  drove  off,  with  dark 
thoughts  crowding  into  his  imagination  of  what  might  happen 
down  at  the  inn  during  the  next  few  days.  He  was  angry  with 
her,  he  scarcely  knew  why. 

Meanwhile  Wonna,  apparently  quite  calm,  went  on  down  the 
road ;  but  there  was  no  more  laughing  in  her  voice,  no  more  light 
in  her  face. 

"  Miss  Wenna,"  said  the  smaller  of  the  two  children,  who  could 
not  understand  this  change,  and  who  looked  up  with  big,  wonder- 
ing eyes,  "  why  docs  oo  tremble  so  ?" 


SOME    OLD    FRIENDS.  255 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

SOME    OLD    FRIENDS. 

When  they  heard  that  Wenna  was  coming  down  the  road  tliey 
left  Mr.  Roscorla  alone :  lovers  like  to  liave  their  meetings  and 
partings  unobserved. 

She  went  into  the  room,  pale  and  yet  firm — there  was  even  a 
sense  of  gladness  in  her  heart  that  now  she  must  know  the  worst. 
What  would  he  say  ?  How  would  he  receive  her?  She  knew  that 
she  was  at  his  mercy. 

Well,  Mr.  Roscorla  at  this  moment  was  angry  enough,  for  he 
had  been  deceived  and  trifled  with  in  his  absence,  but  he  was  also 
anxious,  and  his  anxiety  caused  him  to  conceal  his  anger.  He 
came  forward  to  her  with  quite  a  pleasant  look  on  his  face ;  he 
kissed  her  and  said — 

"  Why,  now,  Wenna,  how  frightened  you  seem !  Did  you 
think  I  was  going  to  scold  you  ?  No,  no,  no — I  hope  there  is  no 
necessity  for  that.  I  am  not  unreasonable  or  over-exacting,  as  a 
younger  man  might  be ;  I  can  make  allowances.  Of  course  I  can't 
say  I  liked  what  you  told  me,  when  I  first  heard  of  it ;  but  then 
I  reasoned  with  myself :  I  thought  of  your  lonely  position ;  of  the 
natural  liking  a  girl  has  for  the  attention  of  a  young  man ;  of  the 
possibility  of  any  one  going  thoughtlessly  wrong.  And  really  I 
see  no  great  luirm  done.     A  passing  fancy — that  is  all." 

"  Oh,  I  hope  that  is  so !"  she  cried  suddenly,  with  a  pathetic 
earnestness  of  appeal.  "  It  is  so  good  of  you,  so  generous  of  you 
to  speak  like  that !" 

For  the  first  time  she  ventured  to  raise  her  eyes  to  his  face. 
They  were  full  of  gratitude.  Mr.  Roscorla  complimented  himself 
on  his  knowledge  of  women ;  a  younger  man  would  have  flown 
into  a  fury. 

"  Oh  dear,  yes,  Wenna  1"  he  said  lightly,  "  I  suppose  all  girls 
have  their  fancies  stray  a  little  bit  from  time  to  time  ;  but  is  there 
any  harm  done?     None  whatever!     There  is  nothing  like  mar- 


250  THREE    FEATHERS. 

riage  to  fix  the  affections,  as  I  hope  you  will  discover  ere  long — 
the  sooner  the  better,  indeed.  Now  avc  will  dismiss  all  those  un- 
pleasant matters  we  have  been  writing  about." 

"Then  you  do  forgive  me?  You  are  not  I'eally  angry  with 
me  ?"  she  said  ;  and  then,  finding  a  welcome  assurance  in  his  face, 
she  gratefully  took  his  hand  and  touched  it  with  her  lips. 

This  little  act  of  graceful  submission  quite  conquered  Mr.  Ros- 
corla,  and  definitely  removed  all  lingering  traces  of  anger  from  his 
heart.  lie  was  no  longer  acting  clemency  when  he  said — with  a 
slight  blush  on  his  forehead — 

"You  know,Wenna,  I  have  not  been  free  from  blame  either. 
That  letter — it  was  merely  a  piece  of  thoughtless  anger ;  but  still 
it  was  very  kind  of  you  to  consider  it  cancelled  and  withdrawn 
when  I  asked  you.  "Well,  I  was  in  a  bad  temper  at  that  time. 
You  cannot  look  at  things  so  philosophically  when  you  are  far 
away  from  home ;  you  feel  yourself  so  helpless ;  and  you  think 
you  are  being  unfairly —  However,  not  another  word !  Come, 
let  us  talk  of  all  your  affairs,  and  all  the  work  you  have  done 
since  I  left." 

It  was  a  natural  invitation ;  and  yet  it  revealed  in  a  moment 
the  hollowness  of  the  apparent  reconciliation  between  them. 
What  chance  of  mutual  confidence  could  there  be  between  these 
two? 

lie  asked  "\Yenna  if  she  had  been  busy  in  his  absence  ;  and  the 
thought  immediately  occurred  to  him  that  she  had  had  at  least 
sufficient  leisure  to  go  walking  about  with  young  Trelyon. 

lie  asked  her  about  the  Sewing  Club;  and  she  stumbled  into 
the  admission  that  Mr.  Trelyon  had  presented  that  association 
with  six  sewing-machines. 

Always  Trelyon — always  the  recurrence  of  that  uneasy  con- 
sciousness of  past  events,  which  divided  these  two  as  completely 
as  the  Atlantic  had  done.  It  was  a  strange  meeting,  after  that 
long  absence. 

"  It  is  a  curious  thing,"  he  said,  rather  desperately,  "  how  mar- 
riage makes  a  husband  and  wife  sure  of  each  other.  Anxiety  is 
all  over  then.  We  have  near  us,  out  in  Jamaica,  several  men 
whose  wives  and  families  are  here  in  England ;  and  they  accept 
their  exile  there  as  an  ordinary  commercial  necessity.  But  then 
they  put  their  whole  minds  into  their  work ;  for  they  know  that 
when  they  return  to  England  they  will  find  their  wives  and  fam- 


SOME    OLD    FRIENDS.  257 

ilies  just  as  they  left  them.  Of  course,  in  the  majority  of  cases, 
the  married  men  there  have  taken  their  wives  out  with  them. 
Do  you  fear  a  long  sea-voyage,  Wenna  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said,  rather  startled. 

"  You  ought  to  be  a  good  sailor,  you  know." 

She  said  nothing  to  that :  she  was  looking  down,  dreading 
what  was  coming. 

"  I  am  sure  you  must  he  a  good  sailor.  I  have  heard  of  many 
of  your  boating  adventures.  Weren't  you  rather  fond,  some  years 
ago,  of  going  out  at  night  with  the  Lundy  pilots  ?" 

"  I  have  never  gone  a  long  voyage  in  a  large  vessel,"  Wenna 
said,  rather  faintly. 

"  But  if  there  was  any  reasonable  object  to  be  gained,  an  or- 
dinary sea-voyage  would  not  frighten  you?" 

"  Perhaps  not." 

"  And  they  have  really  very  good  steamers  going  to  the  West 
Indies." 

"  Oh,  indeed." 

"  First-rate  !    You  get  a  most  comfortable  cabin." 

"  I  thought  you  rather — in  your  description  of  it — in  your 
first  letter—" 

"Oh,"  said  he,  hurriedly  and  lightly  (for  he  had  been  claim- 
ing sympathy  on  account  of  the  discomfort  of  his  voyage  out), 
"  perhaps  I  made  a  little  too  much  of  that.  Besides,  I  did  not 
make  a  proper  choice  in  time.  One  gains  experience  in  such 
matters.  Now,  if  you  were  going  out  to  Jamaica,  I  should  see 
that  you  had  every  comfort." 

"  But  you  don't  wish  me  to  go  out  to  Jamaica  ?"  she  said,  al- 
most retreating  from  him. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  with  a  smile,  for  his  only  object  at  present 
was  to  familiarize  her  with  the  idea,  "  I  don't  particularly  wish  it, 
unless  the  project  seemed  a  good  one  to  you.  You  see,  Wenna, 
I  find  that  my  stay  there  must  be  longer  than  I  expected.  When 
I  went  out  at  first  the  intention  of  my  partners  and  myself  was 
that  I  should  merely  be  on  the  spot  to  help  our  manager  by  com- 
paring his  accounts  at  the  moment,  and  undertaking  a  lot  of 
work  of  that  sort,  which  otherwise  would  have  consumed  time  in 
correspondence.  I  Avas  merely  to  see  the  whole  thing  well  start- 
ed, and  then  return.  But  now  I  find  that  my  superintendence 
may  be  needed  there  for  a  long  while.     Just  when  everything 


258  THREE    FEATHERS, 

promises  so  well,  I  should  not  like  to  imperil  all  our  cliances 
simply  for  a  year  or  two." 

"  Oil  no,  of  course  not,"  Wenna  said ;  slie  had  no  objection  to 
his  remaining  in  Jamaica  for  a  year  or  two  longer  than  he  had 
intended. 

"  That  being  so,"  he  continued,  "  it  occurred  to  me  that  per- 
haps you  might  consent  to  our  marriage  before  I  leave  England 
again ;  and  that,  indeed,  you  might  even  malce  up  your  mind  to 
try  a  trip  to  Jamaica.  Of  course,  we  should  have  considerable 
spells  of  holiday,  if  you  thought  it  was  Avorth  while  coming  home 
for  a  short  time.  I  assure  you,  you  would  find  the  place  delight- 
ful— far  more  delightful  than  anything  I  told  you  in  my  letters, 
for  I'm  not  very  good  at  describing  things.  And  there  is  a  fair 
amount  of  society." 

lie  did  not  prefer  the  request  in  an  impassioned  manner.  On 
the  contrary,  he  merely  felt  that  he  was  satisfying  himself  by 
carrying  out  an  intention  he  had  formed  on  his  voyage  home.  If, 
he  had  said  to  himself,  Wenna  and  he  became  friends,  he  would 
at  least  suggest  to  her  that  she  might  put  an  end  to  all  further 
suspense  and  anxiety  by  at  once  marrying  him  and  accompany- 
ing him  to  Jamaica. 

"  What  do  you  say  ?"  he  said,  with  a  friendly  smile.  "  Or  have 
I  frightened  you  too  much  ?  Well,  let  us  drop  the  subject  alto- 
gether for  the  present."  ^ 

Wenna  breathed  again. 

"Yes,"  said  he,  good-naturedly,  "you  can  think  over  it.  In 
the  mean  time  do  not  harass  yourself  about  that  or  anything  else. 
You  know,  I  have  come  home  to  spend  a  holiday." 

"  And  won't  you  come  and  see  the  others  ?"  said  Wenna,  rising, 
with  a  glad  look  of  relief  on  her  face. 

"  Oh  yes,  if  you  like,"  he  said ;  and  then  he  stopped  short,  and 
an  angry  gleam  shot  into  his  eyes. 

"  Wenna,  who  gave  you  that  ring  ?" 

"  Oh,  Mabyn  did,"  was  the  frank  reply ;  but  all  the  same 
Wenna  blushed  hotly,  for  that  matter  of  the  emerald  ring  had  not 
been  touched  upon. 

"  Mabyn  did  ?"  he  repeated,  somewhat  suspiciously.  "  She 
must  have  been  in  a  generous  mood." 

"When  you  know  Mabyn  as  well  as  I  do,  you  will  find  out 
that  she  always  is,"  said  Miss  Wenna,  quite  cheerfully ;  she  was 


SOME    OLD    FRIENDS.  259 

indeed  in  the  best  of  spirits  to  find  that  this  dreaded  interview- 
had  not  been  so  very  frightful  after  all,  and  that  she  had  done  no 
mortal  injury  to  one  who  had  placed  his  happiness  in  her  hands. 

When  Mr.  Roscorla,  some  time  after,  set  out  to  -walk  by  him- 
self up  to  Basset  Cottage,  whither  hie  luggage  had  been  sent  be- 
fore him,  he  felt  a  little  tired,  lie  was  not  accustomed  to  violent 
emotions;  and  that  morning  he  had  gone  through  a  good  deal. 
His  anger  and  anxiety  had  for  long  been  fighting  for  mastery ; 
and  both  had  reached  their  climax  that  morning.  On  the  one 
hand,  he  wished  to  avenge  himself  for  the  insult  paid  him,  and 
to  show  that  he  was  not  to  be  trifled  with ;  on  the  other  hand, 
his  anxiety  lest  he  should  be  unable  to  make  up  matters  with 
Wenna,  led  him  to  put  an  unusual  value  upon  her.  What  was 
the  result,  now  that  he  had  definitely  won  her  back  to  himself? 
What  was  the  sentiment  that  followed  on  these  jarring  emotions 
of  the  morning  ? 

To  tell  the  truth,  a  little  disappointment.  Wenna  was  not  look- 
ing her  best  when  she  entered  the  room ;  even  now  he  remem- 
bered that  the  pale  face  rather  shocked  him.  She  was  more — 
insignificant,  perhaps,  is  the  best  word — than  he  had  expected. 
Now  that  he  had  got  back  the  prize  which  he  thought  he  had 
lost,  it  did  not  seem  to  him,  after  all,  to  be  so  wonderful. 

And  in  this  mood  he  went  up  and  walked  into  the  pretty  little 
cottage  which  had  once  been  his  home.  "  What  ?"  he  said  to 
himself,  looking  in  amazement  at  the  small  old-fashioned  parlor, 
and  at  the  still  smaller  study,  filled  Avith  books,  "  is  it  possible 
that  I  ever  proposed  to  myself  to  live  and  die  in  a  hole  like  this  ? 
— my  only  companion  a  cantankerous  old  fool  of  a  woman,  my 
only  occupation  reading  the  newspapers,  my  only  society  the 
good  folks  of  the  inn  V 

He  thanked  God  he  had  escaped.  His  knocking  about  the 
Avorld  for  a  bit  had  opened  up  his  mind.  The  possibility  of  his 
having  in  time  a  handsome  income  had  let  in  upon  liim  many 
new  and  daring  ambitions. 

His  housekeeper,  having  expressed  her  grief  that  she  had  just 
posted  some  letters  to  him,  not  knowing  tliat  he  was  returning 
to  England,  brought  in  a  number  of  small  pass-books  and  a  large 
sheet  of  blue  paper. 

"  If  yii  bain't  too  tired,  zor,  vor  to  look  over  the  accounts,  'tis 
all  thccar  but  the  pultry  that  Mr. — " 


260  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  Good  heavens,  Mrs.  Cornish !"  said  he,  "  do  you  think  I  am 
going  to  look  over  a  lot  of  grocers'  bills  ?" 

Mrs.  Cornish  not  only  hinted  in  very  plain  language  that  her 
master  had  been  at  one  time  particular  enough  about  grocers' 
bills,  and  all  other  bills,  however  trifling,  but  further  proceeded  to 
give  him  a  full  and  minute  account  of  the  various  incidental  ex- 
penses to  which  she  had  been  put  through  young  Penny  Luke 
having  broken  a  window  by  flinging  a  stone  from  the  road ; 
through  the  cat  having  knocked  down  the  best  teapot ;  through 
the  pig  having  got  out  of  its  sty,  gone  mad,  and  smashed  a  cu- 
cumber-frame ;  and  so  forth,  and  so  forth.  In  desperation,  Mr. 
Roscorla  got  up,  put  on  his  hat,  and  went  outside,  leaving  her  at 
once  astonished  and  indignant  over  his  want  of  interest  in  what 
at  one  time  had  been  his  only  care. 

"Was  this,  then,  the  place  in  which  he  had  chosen  to  spend  the 
rest  of  his  life,  without  change,  without  movement,  without  in- 
terest? It  seemed  to  him  at  the  moment  a  living  tomb.  There 
was  not  a  human  being  within  sight.  Far  away  out  there  lay 
the  gray-blue  sea — a  plain  Avithout  a  speck  on  it.  The  great  black 
crags  at  the  mouth  of  the  harbor  were  voiceless  and  sterile  ;  could 
anything  have  been  more  bleak  than  the  bare  uplands  on  which 
the  pale  sun  of  an  English  October  >vas  shining  ?  The  quiet 
crushed  him ;  there  was  not  a  nigger  near  to  swear  at ;  nor  could 
he,  at  the  impulse  of  a  moment,  get  on  horseback  and  ride  over 
to  the  busy  and  interesting  and  picturesque  scene  supplied  by  his 
faithful  coolies  at  woi"k. 

What  was  he  to  do  on  this  very  first  day  in  England,  for  ex- 
ample? Unpack  his  luggage,  in  which  Avere  some  curiosities  he 
had  brought  home  for  Wenna  ? — there  Avas  too  much  trouble  in 
that.  AValk  about  the  garden  and  smoke  a  pipe  as  had  been  his 
wont? — he  had  got  emancipated  from  these  delights  of  dotage. 
Attack  his  grocers'  bills  ? — he  swore  by  all  his  gods  that  he  would 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  price  of  candles  and  cheese  now  or  at 
any  future  time.  The  return  of  the  exile  to  his  native  land  had 
already  produced  a  feeling  of  deep  disappointment;  when  he 
married,  he  said  to  himself,  he  would  take  very  good  care  not  to 
sink  into  an  oyster-like  life  in  Eglosilyan. 

About  a  couple  of  hours  after,  however,  he  was  reminded  that 
Eglosilyan  had  its  small  measure  of  society  by  the  receipt  of  a 
letter  from  Mrs.  Trelyon,  Avho  said  she  had  just  heard  of  his  ar- 


SOME    OLD    FRIENDS.  261 

rival,  and  hastened  to  ask  liini  whether  he  would  dine  at  the 
Hall,  not  next  evening,  but  the  following  one,  to  meet  two  old 
friends  of  his.  General  and  Lady  Weekes,  who  were  there  on  a 
brief  visit. 

"  And  I  have  written  to  ask  Miss  Rosewarne,"  Mrs.  Trelyon 
continued,  *'  to  spare  us  the  same  evening,  so  that  we  hope  to 
have  you  both.  Perhaps  you  will  kindly  add  your  entreaties  to 
mine." 

The  friendly  intention  of  this  postscript  was  evident ;  and  yet 
it  did  not  seem  to  please  Mr.  Roscorla.  This  Sir  Percy  Weekes 
had  been  a  friend  of  his  father's ;  and  when  the  younger  Roscorla 
was  a  young  man  about  town.  Lady  Weekes  had  been  very  kind 
to  him,  and  had  nearly  got  him  married  once  or  twice.  There 
was  a  great  contrast  between  those  days  and  these.  He  hoped 
the  old  gentleman  would  not  be  tempted  to  come  and  visit  him 
at  Basset  Cottage. 

"  Oh,  AVenna,"  said  he  carelessly  to  her  next  morning,  "  Mrs. 
Trelyon  told  me  she  had  asked  you  to  go  up  there  to-morrow 
evening." 

"  Yes,"  Wenna  said,  looking  rather  uncomfortable.  Then  she 
added,  quickly,  "  Would  it  displease  you  if  I  did  not  go  ?  I  ought 
to  be  at  a  children's  party  at  Mr.  Trewhella's." 

This  was  precisely  what  Mr.  Roscorla  wanted ;  but  he  said — 

"You  must  not  be  shy,  Wenna.  However,  please  yourself; 
you  need  have  no  fear  of  vexing  me.  But  I  must  go ;  for  the 
Wcekeses  are  old  friends  of  mine." 

"  They  stayed  at  the  inn  two  or  three  days  in  May  last,"  said 
Wenna,  innocently.  "  They  came  here  by  chance  and  found  Mrs. 
Trelyon  from  home." 

Mr.  Roscorla  seemed  startled. 

"  Oh,"  said  he.     "  Did  they— did  they— ask  for  me  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  believe  they  did,"  AVenna  .said. 

"  Then  you  told  them,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  with  a  pleasant  smile 
— "  you  told  them,  of  course,  why  you  were  the  best  person  in 
the  world  to  give  them  information  about  me  ?" 

"  Oh,  dear  no,"  said  AVcnna,  blushing  hotly,  "  they  spoke  to 
Jennifer." 

ISIr.  Roscorla  felt  himself  rebuked.  It  was  George  Rosewarne's 
express  wish  that  his  daughters  should  not  be  approached  by 
strangers  visiting  the  inn  as  if  they  were  ofticially  connected  with 


262  THREE    FEATHERS. 

the  place ;  Mr.  Roscorla  should  have  remembered  that  inquiries 
would  be  made  of  a  servant. 

But,  as  it  happened,  Sir  Percy  and  his  wife  had  really  made 
the  acquaintance  of  both  Wenna  and  Mabyn  on  their  chance  visit 
to  Eglosilyan ;  and  it  was  of  these  two  girls  they  were  speaking 
when  Mr.  Roscorla  was  announced  in  Mrs.  Trelyon's  drawing- 
room  the  following  evening.  The  thin,  wiry,  white-moustached 
old  man,  who  had  wonderfully  bright  eyes  and  a  great  vivacity  of 
spirits  for  a  veteran  of  seventy-four,  was  standing  in  front  of  the 
fire,  and  declaring  to  everybody  that  two  such  well-accomplished, 
smart,  talkative,  and  ladylike  young  women  he  had  never  met 
with  in  his  life. 

"What  did  you  say  the  name  was,  my  dear  Mrs.  Trclyon? 
Rosewarne,  eh?  —  Rosewarne?  A  good  old  Cornish  name  —  as 
good  as  yours,  Roscorla.  So  they're  called  Rosewarne —  Gad, 
if  her  august  ladyship  there  wants  to  appoint  a  successor,  I'm 
willing  to  let  her  choice  fall  on  one  o'  those  two  girls." 

Iler  august  ladyship — a  dark  and  silent  old  woman  of  eighty — 
did  not  like,  in  the  first  place,  to  be  called  her  august  ladyship, 
and  did  not  relish  either  having  her  death  talked  of  as  a  joke. 

"Roscorla,  now  —  Roscorla — there's  a  good  chance  for  you, 
eh?"  continued  the  old  General.  "We  never  could  get  you  mar- 
ried, you  know — wild  young  dog.     Don't  ye  know  the  girls?" 

"  Oh  yes.  Sir  Percy,"  Mr.  Roscorla  said,  with  no  great  good 
will ;  then  he  turned  to  the  fire  and  began  to  warm  his  hands. 

There  was  a  tall  young  gentleman  standing  there  who,  in  for- 
mer days,  would  have  been  delighted  to  cry  out  on  such  an  oc- 
casion, "  Why,  Roscorla's  going  to  marry  one  of  'cm."  He  re- 
mained silent  now. 

lie  was  very  silent,  too,  throughout  the  evening;  and  almost 
anxiously  civil  towards  Mr.  Roscorla.  He  paid  great  attention 
when  the  latter  was  describing  to  the  company  at  table  the  beau- 
ties of  West  Indian  scenery,  the  delights  of  West  Indian  life,  the 
change  that  had  come  over  the  prospects  of  Jamaica  since  the  in- 
troduction of  coolie  labor,  and  the  fashion  in  which  the  rich  mer- 
chants of  Cuba  were  setting  about  getting  plantations  there  for 
the  growth  of  tobacco.  Mr.  Roscorla  spoke  with  the  air  of  a  man 
who  now  knew  what  the  world  was.  When  the  old  General  asked 
him  if  he  were  coming  back  to  live  in  Eglosilyan  after  he  had  be- 
come a  millionaire,  he  laughed,  and  said  that  one's  coffin  came 


SOME    OLD    FRIENDS.  263 

soon  enough  without  one's  rushing  to  meet  it.  No ;  when  he 
came  back  to  England  finally,  he  Avould  live  in  London ;  and  had 
Sir  Percy  still  that  old  walled-in  house  in  Brompton  ? 

Sir  Percy  paid  less  heed  to  these  descriptions  of  Jamaica  than 
Harry  Trelyon  did,  for  his  next  neighbor  was  old  Mrs.  Trelyon,  and 
these  two  venerable  flirts  were  talking  of  old  acquaintances  and 
old  times  at  Bath  and  Cheltenham,  and  of  the  celebrated  beauties, 
wits,  and  murderers  of  other  days,  in  a  manner  which  her  silent 
ladyship  did  not  at  all  seem  to  approve.  The  General  was  bring- 
ing out  all  his  old-fashioned  gallantry-compliments,  easy  phrases 
in  French,  polite  attentions  ;  his  companion  began  to  use  her  fan 
with  a  coquettish  grace,  and  was  vastly  pleased  when  a  reference 
was  made  to  her  celebrated  flight  to  Gretna  Green. 

"  Ah,  Sir  Percy,"  she  said,  "  the  men  were  men  in  those  days, 
and  the  women  women,  I  promise  you  ;  no  beating  about  the 
bush,  but  the  fair  word  given,  and  the  fair  word  taken ;  and  then 
a  broken  head  for  whoever  should  interfere  —  father,  uncle,  or 
brother,  no  matter  who ;  and  you  know  our  family,  Sir  Percy,  our 
family  were  among  the  worst — " 

"  I  tell  you  what,  madam,"  said  the  General,  hotly,  "  your  fam- 
ily had  among  'em  the  handsomest  women  in  the  Avest  of  Eng- 
land— and  the  handsomest  men,  too,  by  Gad !  Do  you  remember 
Jane  Swanhope — the  Fair  Maid  of  Somerset  they  used  to  call  her 
— that  married  the  fellow  living  down  Yeovil  way,  who  broke  his 
neck  in  a  steeplechase  V 

"  Do  I  remember  her  ?"  said  the  old  lady.  "  She  was  one  of 
my  bridesmaids  when  they  took  me  up  to  London  to  get  married 
properly  after  I  came  back.  She  was  my  cousin  on  the  mother's 
side ;  but  they  were  connected  with  the  Trelyons,  too.  And  do 
you  remember  old  John  Trelyon  of  Polkerris ;  and  did  you  ever 
see  a  man  straighter  in  the  back  than  he  was,  at  seventy-one,  when 
he  married  his  second  wife — that  was  at  Exeter,  I  think.  But 
there  now,  you  don't  find  such  men  and  women  in  these  times ; 
and  do  you  know  the  reason  "of  that.  Sir  Percy  ?  I'll  tell  you ; 
it's  the  doctors.  The  doctors  can  keep  all  the  sickly  ones  alive 
now ;  before  it  was  only  the  strong  ones  that  lived.  Dear,  dear 
me !  when  I  hear  some  of  those  London  women  talk — it  is  nothino" 
but  a  catalogue  of  illnesses  and  diseases.  No  wonder  they  should 
say  in  church,  '  There  is  no  health  in  us ;'  every  one  of  them  has 
something  the  matter,  even  the  young  girls,  poor  things;  and 


264  THREE    FEATHERS. 

pretty  mothers  they'i-c  likely  to  make  !  They're  a  misery  to  them- 
selves ;  they'll  bring  miserable  things  into  the  world ;  and  all  be- 
cause the  doctors  have  become  so  clever  in  pulling  sickly  people 
through.  That's  my  opinion,  Sir  Percy.  The  doctors  are  re- 
sponsible for  five  sixths  of  all  the  suffering  you  hear  of  in  fam- 
ilies, either  through  illness  or  the  losing  of  one's  friends  and  rel- 
atives." 

"Upon  my  word,  madam,"  the  General  protested,  "you  use 
the  doctor  badly.  lie  is  blamed  if  ho  kills  people,  and  he  is 
blamed  if  he  keeps  them  alive.     "What  is  he  to  do  ?" 

"  Do  ?  He  can't  help  saving  the  sickly  ones  now,"  the  old  lady 
admitted ;  "  for  relatives  will  have  it  done,  and  they  know  he  can 
do  it ;  but  it's  a  great  misfortune,  Sir  Percy,  that's  what  it  is,  to 
have  all  these  sickly  creatures  growing  up  to  intermarry  into  the 
good  old  families  that  used  to  be  famous  for  their  comeliness  and 
strength.  There  was  a  man — yes,  I  remember  him  well — that  came 
from  Devonshire — he  was  a  man  of  good  family,  too,  and  they 
made  such  a  noise  about  his  wrestling.  Said  I  to  myself,  wrest- 
ling is  not  a  fit  amusement  for  gentlemen,  but  if  this  man  comes 
up  to  our  county,  there's  one  or  other  of  the  Trelyons  will  try 
his  mettle.  And  well  I  remember  saying  to  my  eldest  son  George 
— you  remember  when  he  was  a  young  man,  Sir  Percy,  no  older 
than  his  own  son  there — '  George,'  I  said,  '  if  this  Mr.  So-and-so 
comes  into  these  parts,  mind  you  have  nothing  to  do  with  him ; 
for  wrestling  is  not  fit  for  gentlemen.'  '  All  right,  mother,'  said 
he ;  but  he  laughed,  and  I  kncAv  what  the  laugh  meant.  My  dear 
Sir  Percy,  I  tell  you  the  man  hadn't  a  chance — I  heard  of  it  all 
afterwards.  George  caught  him  up,  before  he  could  begin  any 
of  his  tricks,  and  flung  him  onto  the  hedge  —  and  there  were  a 
dozen  more  in  our  family  who  could  have  done  it,  I'll  be  bound." 

"  But  then,  you  know,  Mrs.  Trelyon,"  Mr.  Roscorla  ventured  to 
say,  "  physical  strength  is  not  everything  that  is  needed.  If  the 
doctors  were  to  let  the  sickly  ones  die,  we  might  be  losing  all  sorts 
of  great  poets  and  statesmen  and  pTiilosophers." 

The  old  lady  turned  on  him. 

"  And  do  you  think  a  man  has  to  be  sickly  to  be  clever !  No, 
no,  Mr.  Roscorla,  give  him  better  health  and  you  give  him  a  bet- 
ter head,  that's  what  we  believed  in  the  old  days.  I  fancy,  now, 
there  were  greater  men  before  all  this  coddling  began  than  there 
are  now — yes,  I  do ;  and  if  there  is  a  great  man  coming  into  the 


SOME    OLD    FRIENDS.  265 

world,  the  chances  are  just  as  much  that  he'll  be  among  the  strong 
ones  as  among  the  sickly  ones — what  do  you  think,  Sir  Percy  ?" 

"  I  declare  you're  right,  madam,"  said  he,  gallantly.  *'  You've 
quite  convinced  me.  Of  course,  some  of  'cm  must  go — I  say,  let 
the  sickly  ones  go." 

"  I  never  heard  such  brutal,  such  murderous  sentiments  ex- 
pressed in  my  life  before,"  said  a  solemn  voice ;  and  every  one 
became  aware  that  at  last  Lady  Weekes  had  spoken.  Her  speech 
was  the  signal  for  universal  silence,  in  the  midst  of  which  the  la- 
dies got  up  and  left  the  room. 

Trelyon  took  his  mother's  place,  and  sent  around  the  wine. 
He  was  particularly  attentive  to  Mr.  Roscorla,  who  was  surprised. 
"  Perhaps,"  thought  the  latter,  "  he  is  anxious  to  atone  for  all  this 
bother  that  is  now  happily  over." 

If  the  younger  man  was  silent  and  preoccupied,  that  was  not 
the  case  with  Mr.  Roscorla,  who  was  already  assuming  the  airs  of 
a  rich  person,  and  speaking  of  his  being  unable  to  live  in  this 
district  or  that  district  of  London,  just  as  if  he  expected  to  pur- 
chase a  lease  of  Buckingham  Palace  on  his  return  from  Jamaica. 

"  And  how  are  all  my  old  friends  in  Hans  Place,  Sir  Percy  ?" 
he  cried. 

"  You've  been  a  deserter,  sir — you've  been  a  deserter  for  many 
a  year  now,"  the  General  said  gayly,  "  but  we're  all  willing  to 
have  you  back  again,  to  a  quiet  rubber  after  dinner,  you  know. 
Do  you  remember  old  John  Thwaites  ?  Ah,  he's  gone  now — left 
£150,000  to  build  a  hospital,  and  only  £5000  to  his  sister.  The 
poor  old  woman  believed  some  one  would  marry  her  when  she 
got  the  whole  of  her  brother's  money — so  I'm  told — and  when 
the  truth  became  known,  what  did  she  do?  Gad,  sir,  she  wrote 
a  novel  abusing  her  own  brother.  By  the  way,  that  reminds  me 
of  a  devilish  good  thing  I  heard  when  I  was  here  last — down  at 
the  inn,  you  know — what's  the  name  of  the  girls  I  was  talking 
about  ?  Well,  her  ladyship  caught  one  of  them  reading  a  novel, 
and  not  very  well  pleased  with  it,  and  says  she  to  the  young  lady, 
'  Don't  you  like  that  book  ?'  Then  says  the  girl — let  me  sec  what 
was  it  ? —     Gad,  I  must  go  and  ask  her  ladyship — " 

And  off  he  trotted  to  the  drawing-room.  He  came  back  in  a 
couple  of  minutes. 

"Of  course,"  said  he.  "Devilish  stupid  of  me  to  forget  it. 
*  Wliy  ?'  said  the  young  lady, '  I  think  the  author  has  been  trying 

M 


266  THREE    FEATHERS. 

to  keep  the  second  commandment,  for  there's  nothing  in  the  book 
that  has  any  Ukeness  to  anything  in  heaven  above,  or  in  the  earth 
beneath,  or  the  heavens  under  the  earth — '  " 

"The  waters  under  the  earth." 

"I  mean  the  waters,  of  course.  Gad,  her  ladyship  was  im- 
mensely tickled." 

"  Which  of  the  two  young  ladies  was  it,  Sir  Percy  ?  The 
younger,  I  suppose  ?"  said  Mr.  Roscorla.  , 

"  No,  no,  the  elder  sister,  of  course,"  said  Trelyon. 

"  Yes,  the  elder  one  it  was — the  quiet  one — and  an  uncommon 
nice  girl  she  is.  Well,  there's  Captain  Walters — the  old  sea-dog 
— still  to  the  fore  ;  and  his  uniform  too — don't  you  remember  the 
uniform  with  the  red  cu2s  that  hasn't  been  seen  in  the  navy  for 
a  couple  of  centuries,  I  should  think  ?  His  son's  got  into  Parlia- 
ment now  —  gone  over  to  the  Rads,  and  the  working-men,  and 
those  fellows  that  are  scheming  to  get  the  land  divided  among 
themselves — all  in  the  name  of  philosophy — and  it's  a  devilish 
fine  sort  of  philosophy,  that  is,  when  you  haven't  a  rap  in  your 
pocket,  and  when  you  prove  that  everybody  who  has  must  give 
it  up.  He  came  to  my  house  the  other  day,  and  he  was  jawing 
away  about  Primogeniture,  and  Entail,  and  Direct  Taxation,  and 
equal  electoral  districts,  and  I  don't  know  what  besides.  'AYal- 
ters,'  said  I — '  Walters,  you've  got  nothing  to  share,  and  so  you 
don't  mind  a  general  division.  When  you  have,  you'll  want  to 
stick  to  what's  in  your  own  pocket.'     Had  him  there,  eh  ?" 

The  old  General  beamed  and  laughed  over  his  smartness ;  he 
was  conscious  of  having  said  something  that,  in  shape  at  least, 
was  like  an  epigram. 

*'  I  must  rub  up  my  acquaintance  in  that  quarter,"  said  Ros- 
corla, "  before  I  leave  again.  Fortunately,  I  have  always  kept  up 
my  club  subscription ;  and  you'll  come  and  dine  with  me,  Sir 
Percy,  won't  you,  when  I  get  to  town  ?" 

"Are  you  going  to  town?"  said  Trelyon,  quickly. 

"  Oh  yes,  of  course." 

"  W^hen  ?" 

The  question  was  abrupt,  and  it  made  Roscorla  look  at  the 
young  man  as  he  answered.  Trelyon  seemed  to  him  to  be  very 
much  harassed  about  something  or  other. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  in  a  week  or  so ;  I  am  only  home  for  a  holi- 
day, you  know." 


SOME    OLD    FRIENDS.  267 

"  Oh,  you'll  be  here  for  a  week  ?"  said  the  young  man,  submis- 
sively.    "  When  do  you  think  of  returning  to  Jamaica  ?" 

"Probably  at  the  beginning  of  next  month.  Fancy  leaving 
England  in  November — just  at  the  most  hideous  time  of  the  year 
— and  in  a  week  or  two  getting  out  into  summer  again,  with  the 
most  beautiful  climate,  and  foliage,  and  what  not,  all  around  you ! 
I  can  tell  you  a  man  makes  a  great  mistake  who  settles  down  to 
a  sort  of  vegetable  life  anywhere — you  don't  catch  me  at  that 
again." 

"  There's  some  old  women,"  observed  the  General,  who  was  so 
anxious  to  show  his  profundity  that  he  quite  forgot  the  invid- 
ious character  of  the  comparison,  "  who  are  just  like  trees — as 
much  below  the  ground  as  above  it — isn't  that  true,  eh  ?  They're 
a  deal  more  at  home  among  the  people  they  have  buried  than 
among  those  that  are  alive.  I  don't  say  that's  your  case,  Ros- 
corla.  You're  comparatively  a  young  man  yet — you've  got  brisk 
health — I  don't  wonder  at  your  liking  to  knock  about.  As  for 
you,  young  Trelyon,  what  do  you  mean  to  do  ?" 

Harry  Trelyon  started. 

"  Oh,"  said  he,  with  some  confusion,  "  I  have  no  immediate 
plans.  Yes,  I  have — don't  you  know  I  have  been  cramming  for 
the  Civil  Service  examinations  for  first  commissions  ?" 

"  And  what  the  devil  made  the  War  Office  go  to  those  civilians  ?" 
muttered  the  General. 

"  And  if  I  pull  through,  I  shall  want  all  your  influence  to  get 
me  gazetted  to  a  good  regiment.  Don't  they  often  shunt  you 
onto  the  First  or  Second  West  Indians  ?" 

"  And  you've  enough  money  to  back  you  too,"  said  the  Gen- 
eral. "  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  gentlemen,  if  they  abolish  the  pur- 
chase of  commissions  in  the  army — and  they're  always  talking 
about  it — they  don't  know  what  they'll  bring  about.  They'll 
have  two  sets  of  officers  in  the  army — men  with  money,  who  like 
a  good  mess,  and  live  far  beyond  their  pay,  and  men  with  no 
money  at  all,  who've  got  to  live  on  their  pay,  and  how  can  they 
afford  the  regimental  mess  out  of  that?  But  Parliament  won't 
stand  it,  you'll  sec.  The  War  Minister'll  be  beaten  if  he  brings 
it  on — take  my  word  for  that." 

The  old  General  had  probably  never  heard  of  a  royal  warrant 
and  its  mighty  powers, 

"  So  you're  going  to  be  one  of  us  ?"  he  said  to  Trelyon.    "  Well, 


268  THREE    FEATHERS. 

you've  a  smart  figure  for  a  uniform.  You're  the  first  of  your  side 
of  the  family  to  go  into  the  army,  eh  ?  You  had  some  naval  men 
among  you,  eh  ?" 

"  I  think  you'd  better  ask  my  grandmother,"  said  young  Tre- 
lyon,  with  a  laugh ;  "  she'll  tell  you  stories  about  'em  by  the  hour 
together." 

"  She's  a  wonderful  woman  that — a  wonderful  old  creature," 
said  the  General,  just  as  if  he  were  a  sprightly  young  fellow  talk- 
ing of  the  oldest  inhabitant  of  the  district.  "  She's  not  one  of 
them  that  are  half  buried ;  she's  wide  enough  awake,  I'll  be  bound. 
Gad,  what  a  handsome  woman  she  was  when  I  saw  her  first.  Well, 
lads,  let's  join  the  ladies ;  I'm  none  of  your  steady -going  old  to- 
pers. Enough's  as  good's  a  feast — that's  my  motto.  And  I  can't 
write  my  name  on  a  slate  Avith  my  knuckles,  either." 

And  so  they  went  into  the  large,  dimly  lighted  red  chamber, 
where  the  women  were  having  tea  around  the  blazing  fire.  The 
men  took  various  chairs  about ;  the  conversation  became  general ; 
old  Lady  Wcekes  feebly  endeavored  to  keep  up  her  eyelids.  In 
about  half  an  hour  or  so  Mrs.  Trelyon  happened  to  glance  around 
the  room. 

"  Where's  Harry  ?"  said  she. 

No  one  apparently  had  noticed  that  Master  Harry  had  disap- 
peared. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

A     DARK     COKSPIRACy. 


Now,  when  Harry  Trelyon  drove  up  to  the  Hall,  after  leaving 
Wenna  Eosewarne  in  the  road,  he  could  not  "tell  why  he  was  vex- 
ed with  her.  He  imagined  somehow  that  she  should  not  have 
allowed  Mr.  Roscorla  to  come  home — and  to  come  home  just  at 
this  moment,  when  he,  Trelyon,  had  stolen  down  for  a  couple  of 
days  to  have  a  shy  look  at  the  sweetheart  who  was  so  far  out  of 
his  reach.  She  ought  to  have  been  alone.  Then  she  ought  not 
to  have  looked  so  calm  and  complacent  on  going  away  to  meet 
Mr.  Roscorla ;  she  ought  to  have  been  afraid.  She  ought  to  have 
— in  short,  everything  was  wrong,  and  Wenna  was  largely  to  blame. 

"  Well,  grandmother,"  said  he,  as  they  drove  through  the  av- 


A   DARK    CONSPIRACV.  2G9 

enue,  "don't  you  expect  every  minute  to  flush  a  covey  of  par- 
sons ?" 

He  was  angry  with  Wenna ;  and  so  he  broke  out  once  more  in 
his  old  vein. 

"  There  are  worse  men  than  the  parsons,  Harry,"  the  old  lady 
said. 

"  I'll  bet  you  a  sovereign  there  are  two  on  the  door-step." 

He  would  have  lost.  There  was  not  a  clergyman  of  any  sort 
in  or  about  the  house. 

"  Isn't  Mr.  Barnes  here  ?"  said  he  to  his  mother. 

Mrs.  Trelyon  flushed  slightly,  as  she  said — 

"  No,  Harry,  Mr.  Barnes  is  not  here.  Nor  is  he  likely  to  visit 
here  again." 

Now  Mr.  Eoscorla  would  at  once  have  perceived  what  a  strange 
little  story  lay  behind  that  simple  speech  ;  but  Mr.  Harry,  paying 
no  attention  to  it,  merely  said  he  was  heartily  glad  to  hear  of  it, 
and  showed  his  gratitude  by  being  unusually  polite  to  his  mother 
during  the  rest  of  his  stay. 

"  And  so  Mr.  Roscorla  has  come  back,"  his  mother  said.  "  Gen- 
eral Weekes  was  asking  about  him  only  yesterday.  We  must  see 
if  he  will  come  up  to  dinner  the  night  after  to-morrow — and  Miss 
Rosewarne  also." 

"You  may  ask  her — you  ought  to  ask  her — but  she  won't 
come,"  said  he. 

"  How  do  you  know  ?"  Mrs.  Trelyon  said,  with  a  gentle  wonder. 
"  She  has  been  here  very  often  of  late." 

"  Have  you  let  her  walk  up  ?" 

"  No,  I  have  generally  driven  down  for  her  when  I  wanted  to 
see  her ;  and  the  way  she  has  been  working  for  these  people  is 
extraordinary — never  tired,  always  cheerful,  ready  to  be  bothered 
by  anybody,  and  patient  with  their  suspicions  and  simplicity,  be- 
yond belief.     I  am  sure  Mr.  Roscorla  will  have  an  excellent  wife." 

"  I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  ho  will,"  said  her  son,  goaded  past 
endurance. 

"  Why,  Harry,"  said  his  mother,  with  her  eyes  wide  open,  "  I 
thought  you  had  a  great  respect  for  Miss  Rosewarne." 

"  I  have,"  he  said,  abruptly,  "  far  too  great  a  respect  to  like 
the  notion  of  her  marrying  that  old  fool." 

"Would  you  rather  not  have  him  to  dinner?" 

"  Oh,  I  should  like  to  have  him  to  dinner." 


270  THREE    FEATHERS, 

For  one  evening,  at  least,  this  young  man  considered,  these  two 
"would  be  separated.  lie  was  pretty  sure  that  Roscorla  would 
come  to  meet  General  Weekes ;  he  was  positive  that  "SVenna 
would  not  come  to  the  house  while  he  himself  was  in  it. 

But  the  notion  that,  except  during  this  one  evening,  his  rival 
would  have  free  access  to  the  inn,  and  would  spend  pleasant  hours 
there,  and  would  take  Wenna  with  him  for  walks  along  the  coast, 
maddened  him.  He  dared  not  go  down  to  the  village,  for  fear  of 
seeing  these  two  together.  He  walked  about  the  grounds,  or  went 
away  over  to  the  cliffs,  torturing  his  heart  with  imagining  Eos- 
corla's  opportunities.  And  once  or  twice  he  was  on  the  point  of 
going  straight  down  to  Eglosilyan,  and  calling  on  "Wenna,  before 
Roscorla's  face,  to  be  true  to  her  own  heart,  and  declare  herself 
free  from  this  old  and  hateful  entanglement. 

In  these  circumstances  his  grandmother  was  not  a  good  com- 
panion for  him.  In  her  continual  glorification  of  the  self-will  of 
the  Trelyons,  and  her  stories  of  the  wild  deeds  she  had  done,  she 
was  unconsciously  driving  him  to  some  desperate  thing,  against 
his  better  judgment. 

"  Why,  grandmother,"  he  said,  one  day,  "  you  hint  that  I  am 
a  nincompoop  because  I  don't  go  and  carry  off  that  girl  and  mar- 
ry her  against  her  will.  Is  that  what  you  mean  by  telling  me  of 
what  the  men  did  in  former  days  ?  Well,  I  can  tell  you  this,  that 
it  would  be  a  deal  easier  for  me  to  try  that  than  not  to  try  it. 
The  difficulty  is  in  holding  your  hand.  But  what  good  would 
you  do,  after  all  ?  The  time  has  gone  by  for  that  sort  of  thing, 
I  shouldn't  like  to  have  on  my  hands  a  woman  sulking  because 
she  was  married  by  force — besides,  j'ou  can't  do  these  mad  freaks 
now — there  arc  too  many  police-courts  about." 

"By  force?  No!"  the  old  lady  said.  "The  girls  I  speak  of 
were  as  glad  to  run  away  as  the  men,  I  can  tell  you,  and  they  did 
it,  too,  when  their  relations  were  against  the  match." 

"  Of  course,  if  both  he  and  she  are  agreed,  the  way  is  as  smooth 
now  as  it  was  then  ;  you  don't  need  to  care  much  for  relations." 

"  But,  Harry,  you  don't  know  what  a  girl  thinks,"  this  dangerous 
old  lady  said.  "  She  has  her  notions  of  duty,  and  her  respect  for 
her  parents,  and  all  that ;  and  if  the  man  only  went  and  reasoned 
with  her,  he  would  never  carry  the  day ;  but  just  as  she  comes 
out  of  a  ball-room  some  night,  when  she  is  all  aglow  with  fun  and 
pleasure,  and  ready  to  become  romantic  with  the  stars,  you  see, 


A    DARK    CONSPIRACY.  27l 

and  the  darkness,  then  just  show  her  a  carriage,  a  pair  of  horses, 
a  marriage  Ucense,  and  her  own  maid  to  accompany  her,  and  see 
what  will  happen  !  Why,  she'll  hop  into  the  carriage  like  a  dicky 
bird ;  then  she'll  have  a  bit  of  a  cry  ;  and  then  she'll  recover,  and 
be  mad  with  the  delight  of  escaping  from  those  behind  her. 
That's  how  to  win  a  girl,  man  !  The  sweethearts  of  these  days 
think  too  much,  that's  about  it :  it's  all  done  by  argument  be- 
tween them." 

"You're  a  wicked  old  woman,  grandmother,"  said  Trelyon, 
with  a  laugh.  "  You  oughtn't  to  put  such  notions  into  the  head 
of  a  well-conducted  young  man  like  me." 

"  Well,  you're  not  such  a  booby  as  you  used  to  be,  Harry," 
the  old  lady  admitted.  "  Your  manners  arc  considerably  im- 
proved, and  there  was  much  room  for  improvement.  You're 
growing  a  good  deal  like  your  grandfather," 

"  But  there's  no  Gretna  Green  nowadays,"  said  Trelyon,  as  he 
went  outside,  "so  you  can't  expect  me  to  be  perfect,  grand- 
mother." 

On  the  first  night  of  his  arrival  at  Eglosilyan  he  stole  away  in 
the  darkness  down  to  the  inn.  There  were  no  lamps  in  the  steep 
road,  which  was  rendered  all  the  darker  by  the  high  rocky  bank 
with  its  rough  masses  of  foliage ;  he  feared  that  by  accident  some 
one  might  be  out  and  meet  him.  But  in  the  absolute  silence, 
under  the  stars,  he  made  his  way  down  until  he  was  near  the  inn ; 
and  there,  in  the  black  shadow  of  the  road,  he  stood  and  looked 
at  the  lighted  windows.  Roscorla  was  doubtless  within — lying  in 
an  easy-chair,  probably,  by  the  fire,  while  Wenna  sang  her  old- 
fashioned  songs  to  him.  lie  would  assume  the  air  of  beipg  one 
of  the  family  now — only  holding  himself  a  little  above  the  fam- 
ily. Perhaps  he  was  talking  of  the  house  J^e  meant  to  take  when 
he  and  Wenna  married. 

That  was  no  wholesome  food  for  reflection  on  which  this  young 
man's  mind  was  now  feeding.  He  stood  there  in  the  darkness, 
himself  white  as  a  ghost,  while  all  the  vague  imaginings  of  what 
might  be  going  on  within  the  house  seemed  to  be  eating  at  his 
heart.  This,  then,  was  the  comfort  he  had  found,  by  secretly 
stealing  away  from  London  for  a  day  or  two  ;  he  had  arrived  just 
in  time  to  find  his  rival  triumphant. 

The  private  door  of  the  inn  was  at  this  moment  opened  ;  a 
warm  glow  of  yellow  streamed  out  into  the  darkness. 


2*72  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  Good-night,"  said  some  one :  was  it  Wenna  ? 

"  Good-niglit,"  was  tlie  answer ;  and  then  the  figure  of  a  man 
passed  down  the  road. 

Trelyon  breathed  more  freely ;  at  last  his  rival  was  out  of  the 
house.  Wenna  was  now  alone ;  would  she  go  up  into  her  own 
room,  and  think  over  all  the  events  of  the  day  ?  And  would  she 
remember  that  he  had  come  to  Eglosilyan ;  and  that  she  could, 
if  any  such  feeling  arose  in  her  heart,  summon  him  at  need  ? 

It  was  very  late  that  night  before  Trelyon  returned — he  had 
gone  all  round  by  the  harbor  and  the  cliffs,  and  the  high-lying 
church  on  the  hill.  All  in  the  house  had  gone  to  bed  ;  but  there 
was  a  fire  burning  in  his  study ;  and  there  were  biscuits  and  wine 
on  the  table.     A  box  of  cigars  stood  on  the  mantel-piece. 

Apparently  he  was  in  no  mood  for  the  indolent  comfort  thus 
suggested.  He  stood  for  a  minute  or  two  before  the  fire,  staring 
into  it,  and  seeing  other  things  than  the  flaming  coals  there ;  then 
he  moved  about  the  room,  in  an  impatient  and  excited  fashion ; 
finally,  with  his  hand  trembling  a  little  bit,  he  sat  down  and  wrote 
this  note : 

"  Dear  Mother, — 

*'  The  horses  and  carriage  will  be  at  Launceston  Station  by  the 
first  train  on  Saturday  morning.     Will  you  please  send  Jakes 

over  for  them  ?     And  bid  him  take  the  horses  up  to  Mr. 's 

stables,  and  have  them  fed,  watered,  and  properly  rested  before 
he  drives  them  over.  "  Your  affectionate  son, 

"  Harrv  Trelyon." 

Next  morning,  as  Mabyn  Rosewarne  was  coming  briskly  up  the 
Trevenna  road  carryijig  in  her  arms  a  pretty  big  parcel,  she  was 
startled  by  the  appearance  of  a  young  man,  who  suddenly  show- 
ed himself  overhead,  and  then  scrambled  down  the  rocky  bank 
until  he  stood  beside  her. 

"  I've  been  watching  for  you  all  the  morning,  Mabyn,"  said 
Trelyon.     "  I — I  want  to  speak  to  you.     Where  are  you  going  ?" 

"  Up  to  Mr.  Trewhclla's.  You  know  his  granddaughter  is  very 
nearly  quite  well  again  ;  and  there  is  to  be  a  great  gathering  of 
children  there  to-night  to  celebrate  her  recovery.  This  is  a  cake 
I  am  carrying  that  Wenna  has  made  herself." 

"  Is  Wenna  to  be  there  ?"  Trelyon  said,  eagerly. 


A   DARK    CONSPIRACY.  273 

"  Why,  of  course,"  said  Mabyn,  petulantly.  "  What  do  you 
think  the  children  could  do  without  her  ?" 

"  Look  here,  Mabyn,"  he  said.  "  I  want  to  speak  to  you  very 
particularly.  Couldn't  you  just  as  well  go  around  by  the  farm 
road  ?     Let  me  carry  your  cake  for  you." 

Mabyn  guessed  what  he  wanted  to  speak  about,  and  willingly 
made  the  circuit  by  a  more  private  road  leading  by  one  of  the 
upland  farms.  At  a  certain  point  they  came  to  a  stile ;  and  here 
they  rested.     So  far  Trelyon  had  said  nothing  of  consequence. 

"  Oh,  do  you  know,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  Mabyn  remarked,  quite  in- 
nocently, "  I  have  been  reading  such  a  nice  book — all  about  Ja- 
maica." 

"  So  you're  interested  about  Jamaica,  too  1"  said  he,  rather  bit- 
terly. 

"  Yes,  much.  Do  you  know  that  it  is  the  most  fearful  place 
for  storms  in  the  whole  world — the  most  awful  hurricanes  that 
come  smashing  down  everything  and  killing  people.  You  can't 
escape  if  you're  in  the  way  of  the  hurricane.  It  whirls  the  roofs 
off  the  houses,  and  twists  out  the  plantain-trees  just  like  straws. 
The  rivers  wash  away  whole  acres  of  canes  and  swamp  the  farms. 
Sometimes  the  sea  rages  so  that  boats  are  carried  right  up  into 
the  streets  of  Kingston.     There  1" 

"  But  why  does  that  please  you  ?" 

*'  Why,"  she  said,  with  proud  indignation,  "  the  notion  of 
people  talking  as  if  they  could  go  out  to  Jamaica  and  live  for- 
ever, and  come  back  just  when  they  please — it  is  too  ridiculous  ! 
Many  accidents  may  happen.  And  isn't  November  a  very  bad 
time  for  storms  ?  Ships  often  get  wrecked  going  out  to  the  West 
Indies,  don't  they  1" 

At  another  time  Trelyon  would  have  laughed  at  this  blood- 
thirsty young  woman ;  at  this  moment  he  was  too  serious. 

"  Mabyn,"  said  he,  "  I  can't  bear  this  any  longer — standing  by 
like  a  fool  and  looking  on  while  another  man  is  doing  his  best  to 
marry  Wcnna :  I  can't  go  on  like  this  any  longer.  Mabyn,  when 
did  you  say  she  would  leave  Mr.  TrewhcUa's  house  to-night  ?" 

"  I  did  not  say  anything  about  it.  I  suppose  wc  shall  leave 
about  ten ;  the  young  ones  leave  at  nine." 

"  You  will  be  there  ?" 

"  Yes,  Wenna  and  I  are  to  keep  order." 

*'  Nobody  else  with  you  2" 

M2 


2V4  ■  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  No." 

He  looked  at  her  rather  hesitatingly. 

"  And  supposing,  Mabyn,"  he  said  sloT\-ly,  "  supposing  you  and 
Wenna  -were  to  leave  at  ten,  and  that  it  i«  a  beautiful  clear  night, 
you  might  walk  down  by  the  wood  instead  of  by  the  road  ;  and 
then,  supposing  that  you  came  out  on  the  road  down  at  the  foot, 
and  you  found  there  a  carriage  and  pair  of  horses — " 

Mabyn  began  to  look  alarmed. 

"  And  if  I  was  there,"  he  continued,  more  rapidly,  "  and  I  said 
to  Wenna  suddenly, '  Now,  Wenna,  think  nothing,  but  come  and 
save  yourself  from  this  marriage !  Here  is  your  sister  will  come 
with  you — and  I  will  drive  you  to  Plymouth — ' " 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Trelyon !"  Mabyn  cried,  with  a  sudden  joy  in  her  face, 
"  she  would  do  it !     She  would  do  it !" 

"  And  you,  would  you  come  too  ?"  he  demanded. 

"  Yes !"  the  girl  cried,  full  of  excitement.  "  And  then,  Mr.  Tre- 
lyon, and  then  ?" 

"  Why,"  he  cried  boldly,  "  up  to  London  at  once — twenty-four 
hours'  start  of  everybody — and  in  London  we  are  safe !  Then, 
you  know,  Mabyn — " 

"  Yes,  yes,  Mr.  Trelyon  !" 

"  Don't  you  think  now  that  we  two  could  persuade  her  to  a 
quick  marriage — with  a  special  license,  you  know — you  could  per- 
suade her,  I  am  sure,  Mabyn — " 

Li  the  gladness  of  her  heart  Mabyn  felt  herself  at  this  moment 
ready  to  fall  on  the  young  man's  neck  and  kiss  him.  But  she  was 
a  properly  conducted  young  person  ;  and  so  she  rose  from  the  big 
block  of  slate  on  which  she  had  been  sitting,  and  managed  to  sup- 
press any  great  intimation  of  her  abounding  joy.  But  she  was 
very  proud,  all  the  same ;  and  there  was  a  great  firmness  about 
her  lips  as  she  said — 

"  We  will  do  it,  Mr.  Trelyon  j  we  will  do  it.  Do  you  know  why 
Wenna  submits  to  this  engagement  ?  Because  she  reasons  with 
her  conscience,  and  persuades  herself  that  it  is  right.  When  you 
meet  her  like  that,  she  will  have  no  time  to  consider — " 

"  That  is  precisely  what  my  grandmother  says,"  Trelyon  said, 
with  a  triumphant  laugh. 

"Yes,  she  was  a  girl  once,"  Mabyn  replied,  sagely.  "Well, 
■well,  tell  me  all  about  it !  What  arrangements  have  you  made  ? 
You  haven't  got  the  special  license  ?" 


A    DARK    CONSPIRACY.  275 

"  No,"  said  he,  "  I  didn't  make  up  my  mind  to  try  this  on  till 
last  night.  But  the  difference  of  a  day  is  nothing,  when  you  are 
with  her.  We  shall  be  able  to  hide  ourselves  away  pretty  well  in 
London,  don't  you  think  ?" 

"Of  course!"  cried  Mabyn,  confidently.  "But  tell  me  more, 
Mr.  Trelyon !  What  have  you  arranged  ?  AVhat  have  you 
done  ?"  ' 

"  What  could  I  do  until  I  knew  whether  you'd  help  me  ?" 

"  You  must  bring  a  fearful  amount  of  wraps  with  you." 

"  Certainly — more  than  you'll  want,  I  know.  And  I  sha'n't 
light  the  lamps  until  I  hear  you  coming  along ;  for  they  would 
attract  attention  down  in  the  valley.  I  should  like  to  wait  for 
you  elsewhere ;  but  if  I  did  that  you  couldn't  get  Wenna  to  come 
with  you.     Do  you  think  you  will  even  then  ?" 

"Oh  yes,"  said  Mabyn,  cheerfully.  "Nothing  easier!  I  shall 
tell  her  she's  afraid ;  and  then  she  would  walk  down  the  face  of 
Black  Cliff.  By  the  way,  Mr.  Trelyon,  I  must  bring  something 
to  eat  with  me,  and  some  wine — she  will  be  so  nervous — and  the 
long  journey  will  tire  her." 

"  You  will  be  at  Mr.  Trewhella's,  Mabyn ;  you  can't  go  carry- 
ing things  about  with  you !" 

"  I  could  bring  a  bit  of  cake  in  ray  pocket,"  Mabyn  suggested ; 
but  this  seemed  even  to  her  so  ludicrous  that  she  blushed  and 
laughed,  and  agreed  that  Mr.  Trelyon  should  bring  the  necessary 
provisions  for  the  wild  night-ride  to  Plymouth. 

"  Oh,  it  does  so  please  me  to  think  of  it !"  she  said  with  a  curi- 
ous anxious  excitement  as  well  as  gladness  in  her  face ;  "  I  hope 
I  have  not  forgotten  to  arrange  anything.  Let  me  see — we  start 
at  ten ;  then  down  through  the  wood  to  the  road  in  the  hollow 
— oh,  I  hope  there  will  be  nobody  coming  along  just  then  ! — 
,  then  you  light  the  lamps — then  you  come  forward  to  persuade 
Wenna — by  the  way,  Mr.  Trelyon,  where  must  I  go  ?  Shall  I  not 
be  dreadfully  in  the  way  ?" 

"  You  ?  You  must  stand  by  the  horses'  heads !  I  sha'n't 
have  my  man  with  me.  And  yet  they're  not  very  fiery  animals 
— they'll  be  less  fiery,  the  unfortunate  wretches,  when  they  get  to 
Plymouth." 

"  At  what  time  ?" 

"  About  half-past  three  in  the  morning,  if  m'c  go  straight  on," 
said  he. 


276  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  Do  you  know  a  good  hotel  there  ?"  said  the  practical  Mabyn. 

"The  best  one  is  by  the  station ;  but  if  you  sleep  in  the  front 
of  the  house,  you  have  the  whistling  of  engines  all  night  long, 
and  if  you  sleep  in  the  back,  you  overlook  a  barracks,  and  the 
confounded  trumpeting  begins  about  four  o'clock,  I  think." 

"  Wenna  and  I  won't  mind  that — we  shall  be  too  tired,"  Mabyn 
said,  "  Do  you  think  they  could  give  us  a  little  hot  coffee  when 
we  arrive?" 

"  Oh  yes !  I'll  give  the  night-porter  a  sovereign  a  cup — then 
he'll  offer  to  bring  it  to  you  in  buckets.  Now  don't  you  think  the 
whole  thing  is  beautifully  arranged,  Mabyn  ?" 

"  It  is  quite  lovely !"  the  girl  said  joyously,  "  for  we  shall  be 
off  with  the  morning  train  to  London,  Avhile  Mr.  Roscorla  is  pot- 
tering about  Launceston  Station  at  mid-day !  Then  we  must  send 
a  telegram  from  Plymouth,  a  fine  dramatic  telegram ;  and  my 
father,  he  will  swear  a  little,  but  be  quite  content,  and  my  mother 
— do  you  know,  Mr.  Trelyon,  I  believe  my  mother  will  be  as  glad 
as  anybody  !  What  shall  we  say  ? — '  To  Mr.  Rosewarjie,  JEglo- 
s'dyan.  We  have  fled.  Not  the  least  good  pursuing  us.  May 
as  well  make  up  your  mind  to  the  inevitable.  Will  write  to-mor- 
row.''    Is  that  more  than  the  twenty  words  for  a  shilling  ?" 

"  "We  sha'n't  grudge  the  other  shilling  if  it  is,"  the  young  man 
said.  "  Now  you  must  go  on  with  your  cake,  Mabyn.  I  am  off 
to  see  after  the  horses'  shoes.  Mind,  as  soon  after  ten  as  you 
can — just  where  the  path  from  the  wood  comes  into  the  main 
road." 

Then  she  hesitated,  and  for  a  second  or  two  she  remained  thought- 
ful and  silent ;  while  he  was  inwardly  hoping  that  she  was  not  go- 
ing to  draw  back.  Suddenly  she  looked  up  at  him,  with  earnest 
and  anxious  eyes. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  she  said,  "  this  is  a  very  serious  thing. 
You — you  will  be  kind  to  our  Wenna  after  she  is  married  to 
you?" 

"  You  will  see,  Mabyn,"  he  answered,  gently. 

"  You  don't  know  how  sensitive  she  is,"  she  continued,  appar- 
ently thinking  over  all  the  possibilities  of  the  future  in  a  much 
graver  fashion  than  she  had  done.  "  If  you  were  unkind 
to  her,  it  would  kill  her.  Are  you  quite  sure  you  won't  regret 
it?" 

"  Yes,  I  am  quite  sure  of  that,"  said  he,  "as  sure  as  a  man  may 


A   DARK    CONSPIRACY.  277 

be.  I  don't  tliink  you  need  fear  my  being  unkind  to  Wenna. 
Why,  what  bas  put  sucb  tbougbts  into  your  bead  ?" 

"  If  you  were  to  be  cruel  to  ber  or  indifferent,"  sbe  said,  slowly 
and  absently,  "  I  know  tbat  would  kill  ber.  But  I  know  more 
tban  tbat.     /  ivould  kill  youP 

"  Mabyn,"  be  said,  quite  startled,  "  whatever  bas  put  sucb 
tbougbts  into  your  bead?" 

"  Wby,"  sbe  said,  passionately,  "  baven't  I  seen  already  bow  a 
man  can  treat  ber?  Haven't  I  read  tbe  insolent  letters  be  bas 
sent  ber?  Haven't  I  seen  ber  tbrow  herself  on  ber  bed,  beside 
herself  with  grief?  And — and — these  are  things  I  don't  for- 
get, Mr.  Trelyon.  No,  I  have  got  a  word  to  say  to  Mr.  Roscor- 
la  yet  for  bis  treatment  of  my  sister — and  I  will  say  it.  And 
then—" 

The  proud  lips  were  beginning  to  quiver. 

"  Come,  come,  Mabyn,"  said  Trelyon,  gently,  "  don't  imagine 
all  men  are  the  same.  And  perhaps  Roscorla  will  have  been  paid 
out  quite  suflBciently  when  be  bears  of  to-night's  work.  I  sba'n't 
bear  him  any  malice  after  that,  I  know.  Already,  I  confess,  I  feel 
a  good  deal  of  compunction  as  regards  him." 

"  I  don't  at  all — I  don't  a  bit,"  said  Mabyn,  who  very  quickly 
recovered  herself  whenever  Mr.  Roscorla's  name  was  mentioned. 
'*  If  you  can  only  get  her  to  go  away  with  you,  Mr.  Trelyon,  it  will 
serve  him  just  right.  Indeed,  it  is  on  his  account  that  I  hope  you 
will  be  successful.  I — I  don't  quite  like  Wenna  running  away 
with  you,  to  tell  you  tbe  truth — I  would  rather  have  her  left  to  a 
quiet  decision,  and  to  a  marriage  with  everybody  approving.  But 
there  is  no  chance  of  that.  This  is  tbe  only  thing  tbat  will  save 
her." 

"  That  is  precisely  what  I  said  to  you,"  Trelyon  said,  eagerly, 
for  he  was  afraid  of  losing  so  invaluable  an  ally. 

*'  And  you  will  be  very,  very  kind  to  her  ?" 

"  I'm  not  good  at  fine  words,  Mabyn.     You'll  see." 

She  held  out  ber  band  to  him,  and  pressed  his  warmly. 

"  I  believe  you  will  be  a  good  husband  to  ber ;  and  I  know  you 
will  get  tbe  best  wife  in  tbe  whole  world !" 

Sbe  was  going  away  when  be  suddenly  said — 

"  Mabyn !" 

She  turned. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  be,  rather  shamefacedly,  "  bow  much  I 


THREE  FEATHERS. 


am  grateful  to  you  for  all  your  frank  straightforward  kindness — 
and  your  help — and  your  courage — " 

"  No,  no  !"  said  the  young  girl,  good-humoredly.     "  You  make 
Wenna  happy,  and  don't  consider  me !" 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

UNDER   THE   WHITE    STARS. 


During  the  whole  glad  evening  Wenna  had  been  Queen  of  the 
Feast,  and  her  subjects  had  obeyed  her  Avith  a  joyous  submission. 
They  did  not  take  quite  so  kindly  to  Mabyn,  for  she  was  sharp 
of  tongue  and  imperious  in  her  ways ;  but  they  knew  that  they 
could  tease  her  elder  sister  with  impunity  —  always  up  to  the 
well-understood  line  at  which  her  authority  began.  That  was 
never  questioned. 

Then,  at  nine  o'clock,  the  servants  came,  some  on  foot  and  some 
in  dog-carts ;  and  presently  there  was  a  bundling  up  of  tiny  fig- 
ures in  rugs  and  wraps,  and  Wenna  stood  at  the  door  to  kiss  each 
of  them  and  say  good-bye.  It  was  half-past  nine  when  that  per- 
formance was  over. 

'*  Now,  my  dear  Miss  Wenna,"  said  the  old  clergyman,  "  you 
must  be  quite  tired  out  with  your  labors.  Come  into  the  study 
— I  believe  the  tray  has  been  taken  in  there." 

"  Do  you  know,  Mr.  Trewhella,"  said  Mabyn  boldly,  "  that  Wen- 
na hadn't  time  to  cat  a  single  bit  Avhen  all  those  children  were 
gobbling  up  cake.  Couldn't  you  let  her  have  a  little  bit — a  little 
bit  of  cold  meat  now — " 

*'  Dear,  dear  me !"  said  the  kind  old  gentleman,  in  the  deepest 
distress,  "  that  I  should  not  have  remembered !" 

There  was  no  use  in  AVenna  protesting.  In  the  snug  little 
study  she  was  made  to  eat  some  supper ;  and  if  she  got  off  with 
drinking  one  glass  of  sherry  it  was  not  through  the  interven- 
tion of  her  sister,  who  apparently  would  have  had  her  drink  a 
tumblerful. 

It  was  not  until  a  quarter  past  ten  that  the  girls  could  get 
away. 

"Now  I  must  see  you  young  ladies  down  to  the  village,  lest 


UNDER    THE    WHITE    STARS.  279 

some  one  should  run  away  with  you,"  the  old  clergyman  said, 
taking  down  his  top-coat. 

"  Oh  no,  you  must  not — you  must  not,  indeed,  Mr.  Trewhella !" 
Mabyn  said,  anxiously.  "  Wenna  and  I  always  go  about  by  our- 
selves— and  far  later  than  this  too.  It  is  a  beautiful,  clear  night ! 
Why—" 

Her  impetuosity  made  her  sister  smile. 

"  You  talk  as  if  you  would  rather  like  to  be  run  away  with, 
Mabyn,"  she  said.  "  But  indeed,  Mr.  Trewhella,  you  must  not 
think  of  coming  with  us.     It  is  quite  true  what  Mabyn  says." 

And  so  they  went  out  into  the  clear  darkness  together ;  and  the 
door  was  shut ;  and  they  found  themselves  in  the  silent  world  of 
the  night-time,  with  the  white  stars  throbbing  overhead.  Far 
away  in  the  distance  they  could  hear  the  murmur  of  the  sea. 

*'  Are  you  cold,  Mabyn,  that  you  tremble  so  ?"  said  the  elder 
sister. 

"  No — only  a  sort  of  shiver  in  coming  out  into  the  night 
air." 

Whatever  it  was  it  was  soon  over.  Mabyn  seemed  to  be  un- 
usually cheerful. 

"  Wenna,"  she  said,  "  you're  afraid  of  ghosts !" 

"  No,  I'm  not." 

"  I  know  you  are." 

"  I'm  not  half  as  much  afraid  of  ghosts  as  you  are,  that's  quite 
certain." 

"  I'll  bet  you  you  won't  walk  down  through  the  wood." 

"  Just  now  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Why,  I'll  not  only  go  down  through  the  wood,  but  I'll  under- 
take to  be  home  before  you,  though  you've  a  broad  road  to  guide 
you." 

"  But  I  did  not  mean  you  to  go  alone." 

"  Oh,"  said  Wenna,  "  you  propose  to  come  with  me  ?  Then  it 
is  you  who  are  afraid  to  go  down  by  yourself  ?     Oh,  Mabyn  !" 

"  Never  mind,  Wenna — let's  go  down  through  the  wood  just 
for  fun," 

So  the  two  sisters  set  out,  arm-in-arm  ;  and  through  some  spirit 
of  mischief  Wenna  would  not  speak  a  word.  Mabyn  was  gradu- 
ally overawed  by  the  silence,  the  night,  the  loneliness  of  the  road, 
and  the  solemn  presence  of  the  great  living  vault  above  them. 


280  THREE    FEATHERS. 

Moreover,  before  getting  into  the  wood,  tliey  Lad  to  skirt  a  curi- 
ous little  dingle,  in  tlie  hollow  of  which  are  both  a  church  and 
churchyard.  Many  a  time  the  sisters  had  come  up  to  this  roman- 
tic dell  in  the  spring-time,  to  gather  splendid  primroses,  sweet 
violets,  the  yellow  celandine,  and  other  wild  flowers  that  grow 
luxuriantly  on  its  steep  banks;  and  very  pretty  the  old  church 
looked  then,  Avith  the  clear  sunshine  of  April  streaming  down 
through  the  scantUy  leaved  trees  into  this  sequestered  spot.  Now 
the  deep  hole  was  black  as  night ;  and  they  could  only  make  out 
a  bit  of  the  spire  of  the  church  as  it  appeared  against  the  dark 
sky.  Nay,  was  there  not  a  sound  among  the  fallen  leaves 
and  underwood  down  there,  in  the  direction  of  the  unseen 
graves  ? 

"  Some  cow  has  strayed  in  there,  I  believe,"  said  Mabyn,  in  a 
somewhat  low  voice ;  and  she  walked  rather  quickly  until  they 
got  past  the  place  and  out  on  the  hill  over  the  wooded  val- 
ley. 

"Now,"  said  Wenna,  cheerfully,  not  wishing  to  have  Mabyn 
put  in  a  real  fright,  "  as  we  go  down  I  am  going  to  tell  you  some- 
thing, Mabyn.  IIow  would  you  like  to  have  to  prepare  for  a 
wedding  in  a  fortnight  ?" 

"  Not  at  all !"  said  Mabyn  promptly,  even  fiercely. 

*'  Not  if  it  was  your  own  ?" 

"  No — why,  the  insult  of  such  a  request  1" 

According  to  Mabyn's  way  of  thinking  it  was  an  insult  to  ask 
a  girl  to  marry  you  in  a  fortnight,  but  none  to  insist  on  her  mar- 
rying you  the  day  after  to-morrow. 

"  You  think  that  a  girl  could  fairly  plead  that  as  an  excuse — 
the  mere  time  to  get  one's  dresses  and  things  ready  ?" 

"  Certainly !" 

"  Oh,  Mabyn,"  said  Wenna,  far  more  seriously,  "  it  is  not  of 
dresses  I  am  thinking  at  all ;  but  I  shudder  to  think  of  getting 
married  just  now.  I  could  not  do  it.  I  have  not  had  enough 
time  to  forget  what  is  past — and  until  that  is  done,  how  could  I 
marry  any  man?" 

"Wenna,  I  do  love  you  when  you  talk  like  that?"  her  sister 
cried.  "  You  can  be  so  wise  and  reasonable  when  you  choose ! 
Of  course  you  arc  quite  right,  dear.  But  you  don't  mean  to  say 
he  wants  you  to  get  married  before  he  goes  to  Jamaica,  and  then 
to  leave  you  alone  ?" 


UNDER   THE    WHITE    STARS.  281 

"  Oh  no.     He  wants  me  to  go  with  him  to  Jamaica." 

Mabyn  uttered  a  short  cry  of  alarm. 

"  To  Jamaica !  To  take  you  away  from  the  whole  of  us — why 
— oh,  Wenna,  I  do  hate  being  a  girl  so — for  you're  not  allowed 
to  swear — if  I  were  a  man  now  !  To  Jamaica!  Why  don't  you 
know  that  there  are  hundreds  of  people  always  being  killed  there 
by  the  most  frightful  hurricanes  and  earthquakes,  and  large  ser- 
pents in  the  woods  ?  To  Jamaica  ? — no,  you  are  not  going  to 
Jamaica  just  vet !  I  don't  think  you  are  going  to  Jamaica  just 
yet !" 

"  No,  indeed,  I  am  not,"  said  Wenna,  with  a  quiet  decision. 
"  Nor  could  I  think  of  getting  married  in  any  case  at  present. 
But  then — don't  you  see,  Mabyn  —  Mr.  Roscorla  is  just  a  little 
peculiar  in  some  ways — " 

"  Yes,  certainly." 

"  — And  he  likes  to  have  a  definite  reason  for  what  you  do. 
If  I  were  to  tell  him  of  the  repugnance  I  have  to  the  notion  of 
getting  married  just  now,  he  would  call  it  mere  sentiment,  and 
try  to  argue  me  out  of  it — then  we  should  have  a  quarrel.  But 
if,  as  you  say,  a  girl  may  fairly  refuse  in  point  of  time — " 

"  Now,  I'll  tell  you,"  said  Mabyn,  plainly ;  "  no  girl  can  get 
married  properly  who  hasn't  six  months  to  get  ready  in.  She 
might  manage  in  three  or  four  months,  for  a  man  she  was  par- 
ticularly fond  of ;  but  if  it  is  a  mere  stranger — and  a  disagreeable 
person — and  one  who  ought  not  to  marry  her  at  all — then  six 
months  is  the  very  shortest  time.  Just  you  send  Mr.  Roscorla  to 
me,  and  I'll  tell  him  all  about  it." 

Wenna  laughed. 

"  Yes,  I've  no  doubt  you  would.  I  think  he's  more  afraid  of 
you  than  of  all  the  serpents  and  snakes  in  Jamaica." 

"  Yes,  and  he'll  have  more  cause  to  be  before  he's  much  older," 
said  Mabyn,  confidently. 

They  could  not  continue  their  conversation  just  then,  for  they 
were  going  down  the  side  of  the  hill,  between  short  trees  and 
bushes ;  and  the  path  was  broad  enough  only  for  one,  while  there 
were  many  dark  places  demanding  caution. 

"  Seen  any  ghosts  yet  ?"  Wenna  called  out  to  Mabyn,  who  was 
behind  her. 

*'  Ghosts,  sir  ?  Ay,  ay,  sir  !  Heave  away  on  the  larboard 
beam  !     I  say,  Wenna,  isn't  it  uncommon  dark  ?" 


282  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  It  is  uncommonly  dark." 

"  Gentlemen  always  say  uncommon ;  and  all  the  grammars  are 
Avritten  by  gentlemen.  Oh,  "Wenna,  wait  a  bit ;  Tve  lost  my 
brooch !" 

It  was  no  ruse,  for  a  wonder ;  the  brooch  had,  indeed,  dropped 
out  of  her  shawl.  She  felt  all  over  the  dark  ground  for  it,  but 
her  search  was  in  vain. 

**  Well,  here's  a  nice  thing  I     Upon  my — " 

"  Mabyn !" 

"  Upon  my — trotting  pony ;  that  was  all  I  was  going  to  say. 
Wenna,  will  you  stay  here  for  a  minute,  and  FU  run  down  to  the 
foot  of  the  hill  and  get  a  match  ?" 

"  How  can  you  get  a  match  at  the  foot  of  the  hill  ?  You'll 
have  to  go  on  to  the  inn.  No,  tie  your  handkerchief  around  the 
foot  of  one  of  the  trees,  and  come  up  early  in  the  morning  to 
look." 

"Early  in  the  morning?"  said  Mabyn.  "I  hope  to  be  in — 
I  mean  asleep  then." 

Twice  she  had  nearly  blurted  out  the  secret;  and  it  is  highly 
probable  that  her  refusal  to  adopt  Wenna's  suggestion  would  have 
led  her  sister  to  suspect  something,  had  not  Wenna  herself,  by 
accident,  kicked  against  the  missing  brooch.  As  it  was,  the  time 
lost  by  this  misadventure  was  grievous  to  Mabyn,  who  now  in- 
sisted on  leading  the  way,  and  went  along  through  the  bushes  at 
a  rattling  pace.  Here  and  there  the  belated  wanderers  startled 
a  blackbird,  that  went  shrieking  its  fright  over  to  the  other  side 
of  the  valley ;  but  Mabyn  was  now  too  much  preoccupied  to  be 
imnerved. 

"  Keeping  a  look-out  ahead  ?"  Wenna  called. 

"Ay,  ay,  sir !  No  ghosts  an  the  weather  quarter !  Ship  draw- 
ing twenty  fathoms,  and  the  mate  fast  asleep.  Oh,  Wenna,  my 
hat !" 

It  had  been  twitched  oflE  her  head  by  one  of  the  branches  of 
the  young  trees  through  which  she  Avas  passing,  and  the  pliant 
bit  of  wood,  being  released  from  the  strain,  had  thrown  it  down 
into  the  dark  bushes  and  briers. 

"  Well,  I'm — no,  Fm  not  1"  said  Mabyn,  as  she  picked  out  the 
hat  from  among  the  thorns,  and  straightened  the  twisted  feather. 
Then  she  set  out  again,  impatient  over  these  delays ;  and  yet  de- 
termined not  to  let  her  couraufc  sink. 


UNDER    THE    -WHITE    STARS.  283 

"  Land  ahead  yet  ?"  called  out  Wenna. 

"  Ay,  ay,  sir !  and  the  Lizard  on  our  lee !  Wind  S.  S.W.,  and 
the  cargo  shifting  a  point  to  the  east.     Hurrah !" 

"  Mabyn,  they'll  hear  you  a  mile  ofiE !" 

It  was  certainly  Mabyn's  intention  that  she  should  be  heard  at 
least  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off,  for  now  they  had  got  down  to  the 
open,  and  they  could  hear  the  stream  some  way  ahead  of  them 
which  they  would  have  to  cross.  At  this  point  Mabyn  paused 
for  a  second  to  let  her  sister  overtake  her;  then  they  went  on 
arm-in-arm. 

"  Oh,  AVenna,"  she  said,  "  do  you  remember  '  young  Lochin- 

"  Of  course  1" 

"  Didn't  you  fall  in  love  with  him  when  you  read  about  him  ? 
Now,  there  was  somebody  to  fall  in  love  with !  Don't  you  re- 
member, when  he  came  into  Netherby  Hall,  that 

'The  bride-maidens  whispered,  '"Twere  better  by  far 
To  have  matched  our  fair  cousin  with  young  Lochinvar!'" 

And  then  you  know,  Wenna — 

'  One  touch  to  her  hand,  and  one  word  in  her  ear. 
When  they  reached  the  hall-door,  and  the  charger  stood  near; 
So  light  to  the  croup  the  fair  lady  he  swung. 
So  light  to  the  saddle  before  her  he  sprung! 
"She  is  won!  we  are  gone — over  bank,  bush,  and  scaur! 
They'll  have  fleet  steeds  that  follow,"  quoth  young  Lochinvar.' 

That  ivas  a  lover  now  !" 

"  I  think  he  was  a  most  impertinent  young  man,"  said  Wenna. 

"  I  rather  like  a  young  man  to  be  impertinent,"  said  Mabvn, 
boldly. 

"  Then  there  won't  be  any  difficulty  about  fitting  you  with  a 
husband,"  said  Wenna,  with  a  light  laugh. 

Here  Mabyn  once  more  went  on  ahead,  picking  her  steps 
through  the  damp  grass  as  she  made  her  way  down  to  the  stream. 
Wonna  was  still  in  the  highest  of  spirits. 

"  Walking  the  plank  yet,  boatswain  ?"  she  called  out. 

"  Not  yet,  sir,"  Mabyn  called  in  return.  "  Ship  wearing  round 
on  the  leeward  tack,  and  the  waves  running  mountains  high. 
Don't  you  hear  'em,  captain  ?" 

"  Look  out  for  the  breakers,  boatswain  !" 


28-t  THREK    FEATHERS. 

"Ay,  ay,  sir!  All  hands  on  deck  to  man  the  captain's  gig! 
Belay  away  there  !     Avast !     Mind,  Wenna !  here's  the  bridge  !" 

Crossing  over  that  single  plank,  in  the  dead  of  the  night,  was 
a  sufficiently  dangerous  experiment ;  but  both  these  young  ladies 
had  had  plenty  of  experience  in  keeping  their  wits  about  them  in 
more  perilous  places. 

*'  Why  are  you  in  such  a  hurry,  Mabyn  ?"  Wenna  said,  when 
they  had  crossed. 

Mabyn  did  not  know  what  to  answer ;  she  was  very  much  ex- 
cited, and  inclined  to  talk  at  random  merely  to  cover  her  anxiety. 
She  was  now  very  late  for  the  appointment,  and  who  could  tell 
what  unfortunate  misadventure  Harry  Trelyon  might  have  met 
with  ? 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  she  said.  "  Why  don't  you  admire  young 
Lochinvar  ?     Wenna,  you're  like  the  Lacedamons." 

"  Like  the  what  ?" 

"  Like  the  Laceda^mons,  that  were  neither  cold  nor  hot.  AVhy 
don't  you  admire  young  Lochinvar  ?" 

"  Because  he  was  interfering  with  another  man's  property." 

"That  man  had  no  right  to  her,"  said  Mabyn,  talking  rather 
wildly,  and  looking  on  ahead  to  the  point  at  which  the  path 
through  the  meadows  went  up  the  road  —  "he  was  a  wretched 
animal,  I  know;  I  believe  he  was  a  sugar -broker,  and  had  just 
come  home  from  Jamaica." 

"I  believe,"  said  Wenna — "I  believe  that  young  Lochinvar — " 

She  stopped. 

"What's  that?"  she  said.  "What  are  those  two  lights  up 
there  ?" 

"They're  not  ghosts:  come  along, Wenna !"  said  Mabyn,  hur- 
riedly. 

Let  us  go  up  to  this  road,  where  Harry  Trelyon,  tortured  with 
anxiety  and  impatience,  is  w\aiting.  He  had  slipped  away  from 
the  house  pretty  nearly  as  soon  as  the  gentlemen  had  gone  into 
the  drawing-room  after  dinner,  and  on  some  excuse  or  other  had 
got  the  horses  put  to  a  light  and  yet  roomy  Stanhope  phaeton. 
From  the  stable-yard  he  drove  by  a  back  way  into  the  main  road 
without  passing  in  front  of  the  Hall ;  then  he  quietly  walked  the 
horses  down  the  steep  hill,  and  around  the  foot  of  the  valley  to  the 
point  at  which  Mabyn  was  to  make  her  appearance. 


UNDER    THE    WHITE    STARS.  285 

But  he  dared  not  stop  there ;  for  now  and  again  some  passer- 
by came  along  the  road ;  and  even  in  the  darkness  Mrs.  Trelyon's 
gray  horses  would  be  recognized  by  any  of  the  inhabitants  of 
Eglosilyan,  who  would  naturally  wonder  what  Master  Harry  was 
waiting  for.  He  walked  them  a  few  hundred  yards  one  way,  then 
a  few  hundred  yards  the  other;  and  ever,  as  it  seemed  to  him, 
the  danger  was  growing  greater  of  some  one  from  the  inn  or  from 
the  Hall  suddenly  appearing  and  spoiling  the  whole  plan. 

Half-past  ten  arrived ;  and  nothing  could  be  heard  of  the  girls. 
Then  a  horrible  thought  struck  him  that  Roscorla  might  by  this 
time  have  left  the  Hall ;  and  would  he  not  be  coming  down  to 
this  very  road  on  his  way  up  to  Basset  Cottage  ?  This  was  no 
idle  fear ;  it  was  almost  a  matter  of  certainty. 

The  minutes  rolled  themselves  out  into  ages ;  he  kept  looking 
at  his  watch  every  few  seconds ;  yet  he  could  hear  nothing  from 
the  wood  or  the  valley  of  Mabyn's  approach.  Then  he  got  down 
into  the  road,  walked  a  few  yards  this  way  and  that,  apparently 
to  stamp  the  nervousness  out  of  his  system,  patted  the  horses, 
and,  finally,  occupied  himself  in  lighting  the  lamps.  He  was 
driven  by  the  delay  into  a  sort  of  desperation.  Even  if  Wenna 
and  Mabyn  did  appear  now,  and  if  he  were  successful  in  his  prayer, 
there  was  every  chance  of  their  being  interrupted  by  Eoscorla, 
who  had  without  doubt  left  the  Hall  some  time  before. 

Suddenly  he  stopped  in  his  excited  walking  up  and  down. 
Was  that  a  faint  "  Hurrah  !"  that  he  heard  in  the  distance  ?  He 
went  down  to  the  stile  at  the  junction  of  the  path  and  the  road, 
and  listened  attentively.  Yes,  he  could  hear  at  least  one  voice, 
as  yet  a  long  Avay  off;  but  now  he  had  no  more  doubt.  He 
walked  quickly  back  to  the  carriage. 

"  Ho,  ho,  my  hearties !"  he  said,  stroking  the  heads  of  the 
horses,  **  you'll  have  a  Dick  Turpin's  ride  to-night." 

All  the  nervousness  had  gone  from  him  now ;  he  was  full  of  a 
strange  sort  of  exultation — the  joy  of  a  man  who  feels  that  the 
crisis  in  his  life  has  come,  and  that  he  has  the  power  and  courage 
to  face  it. 

He  heard  them  come  up  through  the  meadow  to  the  stile ;  it 
was  Wenna  who  was  talking ;  Mabyn  was  quite  silent.  They 
came  along  the  road. 

"  What  is  this  carriage  doing  here  ?"  Wenna  said. 

They  drew  still  nearer. 


286  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  They  are  Mrs.  Trelyon's  horses,  and  there  is  no  driver — " 

At  this  moment  Harry  Trelyon  came  quickly  forward  and  stood 
in  the  road  before  her ;  while  Mabyn  as  quickly  went  on  and  dis- 
appeared. The  girl  was  startled,  bewildered,  but  not  frightened ; 
for  in  a  second  he  had  taken  her  by  the  hand,  and  then  she  heard 
him  say  to  her,  in  an  anxious,  low,  imploring  voice — 

"  Wenna,  my  darling,  don't  be  alarmed  !  See  here,  I  have  got 
everything  ready  to  take  you  away — and  Mabyn  is  coming  with 
us — and  you  know  I  love  you  so  that  I  can't  bear  the  notion  of 
your  falling  into  that  man's  hands.  Now,  Wenna,  don't  think 
about  it !  Come  with  me !  We  shall  be  married  in  London — 
Mabyn  is  coming  with  you — " 

For  one  brief  second  or  two  she  seemed  stunned  and  alarmed ; 
then,  looking  at  the  carriage,  and  the  earnest  suppliant  before  her, 
the  whole  truth  appeared  to  flash  in  upon  her.  She  looked  wildly 
around. 

"  Mabyn — "  she  was  about  to  say,  when  he  guessed  the  mean- 
ing of  her  rapid  look. 

"Mabyn  is  here.  She  is  quite  close  by — she  is  coming  with 
us.  My  darling,  won't  you  let  me  save  you !  This  indeed  is  our 
last  chance.     AVenna ! — " 

She  was  trembling  so  that  he  thought  she  would  fall ;  and  he 
would  have  put  his  arms  around  her,  but  that  she  drew  back,  and 
in  so  doing  she  got  into  the  light,  and  then  he  saw  the  immeas- 
urable pity  and  sadness  of  her  eyes. 

"  Oh,  my  love,"  she  said,  with  the  tears  running  down  her  face, 
"  I  love  you !  I  will  tell  you  that  now,  when  we  speak  for  the 
last  time.     See,  I  will  kiss  you — and  then  you  will  go  away — " 

"  I  will  not  go  away — not  without  you — this  night.  AVenna, 
dearest,  you  have  let  your  heart  speak  at  last — now  let  it  tell  you 
what  to  do !" 

"  Oh,  must  I  go  ?  Must  I  go  ?"  she  said ;  and  then  she  looked 
wildly  around  again. 

*'  Mabyn !"  called  out  Trelyon,  half  mad  with  jo}'  and  triumph, 
"  Mabyn,  come  along  !  Look  sharp,  jump  in  !  This  way,  my 
darling !" 

And  he  took  the  trembling  girl,  and  half  lifted  her  into  the 
carriage. 

"  Oh,  my  love,  what  am  I  doing  for  you  this  night !"  she  said 
to  him,  with  her  eyes  swimming  in  tears. 


INTO    CAPTIVITY.  287 

But  what  was  the  matter  witli  Mabyn  ?  She  was  just  putting 
her  foot  on  the  iron  step  when  a  rapidly  approaching  figure  caused 
her  to  utter  a  cry  of  alarm,  and  she  stumbled  back  into  the  road 
again.  The  very  accident  that  Trelyon  had  been  anticipating 
had  occurred ;  here  was  Mr.  Roscorla,  bewildered  at  first,  and  then 
blind  with  rage  when  he  saw  what  was  happening  before  his  eyes. 
In  his  desperation  and  anger  he  was  about  to  lay  hold  of  Mabyn 
by  the  arm  when  he  was  sent  staggering  backwards  half-a-dozen 
yards. 

"  Don't  interfere  with  me  now,  or  by  God  I  will  kill  you !" 
Trelyon  said,  between  his  teeth ;  and  then  he  hurried  Mabyn  into 
the  carriage. 

What  was  the  sound  then  that  the  still  woods  heard,  under  the 
throbbing  stars,  through  the  darkness  that  lay  over  the  land? 
Only  the  sound  of  horses'  feet,  monotonous  and  regular,  and  not 
a  w^ord  of  joy  or  sorrow  uttered  by  any  one  of  the  party  thus  hur- 
rying on  through  the  night.  • 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

INTO    CAPTIVITY. 


Towards  eleven  o'clock  that  night  Mrs.  Rosewarne  became  a 
little  anxious  about  her  girls,  and  asked  her  husband  to  go  and 
meet  them,  or  to  fetch  them  away  if  they  were  still  at  Mr.  Tre- 
"whella's  house. 

"  Can't  they  look  after  themselves  ?"  said  George  Rosewarne. 
"  I'll  be  bound  Mabyn  can,  anyway.  Let  her  alone  to  come  back 
when  she  pleases." 

Then  his  wife  began  to  fret ;  and,  as  this  made  him  uncom- 
fortable, he  said  he  would  walk  up  the  road  and  meet  them.  lie 
had  no  intention  of  doing  so,  of  course ;  but  it  was  a  good  excuse 
for  getting  away  from  a  fidgety  wife.  lie  went  outside  into  the 
clear  starlight,  and  lounged  down  to  the  small  bridge  beside  the 
mill,  contentedly  smoking  his  pipe. 

There  he  encountered  a  farmer  who  was  riding  liome  a  cob 
he  had  bought  that  day  at  Launccston ;  and  the  farmer  and 
he  began  to  have  a  chat  about  horses  suggested  by  that  circum- 


288  THREE    FEATHERS. 

stance.  Oddly  enough,  their  random  talk  came  round  to  young 
Trelyon. 

"  Your  thoroughbreds  won't  do  for  this  county,"  George  Rose- 
warne  was  saying,  "  to  go  flying  a  stone  wall  and  breaking  your 
neck.  No,  sir !  I'll  tell  you  what  sort  of  hunter  I  should  like  to 
have  for  these  parts.  I'd  have  him  half-bred,  short  in  the  leg, 
short  in  the  pastern,  short  in  the  back,  a  good  sloping  shoulder, 
broad  in  the  chest  and  the  forehead,  long  in  the  belly,  and  just 
the  least  bit  over  fifteen  hands — eh  !  Mr.  Thoms  ?  I  don't  think 
beauty's  of  much  consequence  when  your  neck's  in  question.  Let 
him  be  as  angular  and  ragged  in  the  hips  as  you  like,  so  long's 
his  ribs  are  well  up  to  the  hip-bone.  Have  you  seen  that  black 
horse  that  young  Trelyon  rides  ?" 

"  'Tis  a  noble  beast,  sir — a  noble  beast,"  the  fanner  said ;  and 
he  would  probably  have  gone  on  to  state  what  ideal  animal  had 
been  constructed  by  his  lavish  imagination  had  not  a  man  come 
running  up  at  this  moment,  breathless  and  almost  speechless. 

"  Rosewarne,"  stammered  Mr.  Roscorla,  "  a — a  word  with  you ! 
I  want  to  say — " 

The  farmer,  seeing  he  was  in  the  way,  called  out  a  careless 
good-night,  and  rode  on. 

"Well,  what's  the  matter?"  said  George  Rosewarne,  a  little 
snappishly  :  he  did  not  like  being  worried  by  excitable  people. 

"  Your  daughters !"  gasped  Mr.  Roscorla.  "  They've  both  run 
away — both  of  them — this  minute — with  Trelyon  !  You'll  have 
to  ride  after  them.    They're  straight  away  along  the  high-road." 

"  Both  of  them  ?  the  infernal  young  fools !"  said  Rosewarne. 
"  Why  the  devil  didn't  you  stop  them  yourself  ?" 

"  How  could  I  ?"  Roscorla  said,  amazed  that  the  father  took 
the  flight  of  his  daughters  with  apparent  equanimity.  "You 
must  make  haste,  Mr.  Rosewarne,  or  you'll  never  catch  them." 

"  I've  a  good  mind  to  let  'em  go,"  said  he  sulkily,  as  he  walked 
over  to  the  stables  of  the  inn.  "  The  notion  of  a  man  having  to 
set  out  on  a  wild-goose  chase  at  this  time  o'  night !  Run  away, 
have  they  ?  and  what  in  all  the  world  have  they  run  away  for  ?" 

It  occurred  to  him,  however,  that  the  sooner  he  got  a  horse 
saddled  and  set  out,  the  less  distance  he  would  have  to  go  in  pur- 
suit ;  and  that  consideration  quickened  his  movements. 

"  What's  it  all  about  ?"  said  he  to  Roscorla,  who  had  followed 
him  into  the  stable. 


INTO    CAPTIVITY.  289 

"  I  suppose  they  mean  a  runaway  match,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla, 
helping  to  saddle  George  Rosewarne's  cob,  a  famous  trotter. 

"  It's  that  young  devil's  limb,  Mabyn,  I'll  be  bound,"  said  the 
father.  "  I  wish  to  heaven  somebody  would  marry  her — I  don't 
care  who.     She's  always  up  to  some  confounded  mischief." 

"  No,  no,  no  !"  Roscorla  said ;  "  it's  Wenna  he  means  to  mar- 
ry." 

"  Why,  you  were  to  have  married  Wenna — " 

"  Yes,  but— " 

"  Then  why  didn't  you  ?     So  she's  run  away,  has  she  ?" 

George  Rosewarne  grinned :  he  saw  how  the  matter  lay. 

"This  is  Mabyn's  work,  I  know,"  said  he,  as  he  put  his  foot 
in  the  stirrup,  and  sprang  into  the  saddle.  "  You'd  better  go 
home,  Roscorla.  Don't  you  say  a  word  to  anybody.  You  don't 
want  the  girl  made  a  fool  of  all  through  the  place." 

So  George  Rosewarne  set  out  to  bring  back  his  daughters ;  not 
galloping  as  an  anxious  parent  might,  but  going  ahead  with  a 
long,  steady-going  trot,  which  he  knew  would  soon  tell  on  Mrs. 
Trelyon's  overfed  and  under-exercised  horses. 

"  If  they  mean  Plymouth,"  he  was  thinking,  "  as  is  most  likely 
from  their  taking  the  high-road,  he'll  give  it  them  gently  at  first. 
And  so  that  young  man  wants  to  marry  our  Wenna.  'Twould 
be  a  fine  match  for  her ;  and  yet  she's  worth  all  the  money  he's 
got — she's  worth  it  every  farthing.  I'd  give  him  the  other  one 
cheap  enough." 

Pounding  along  a  dark  road,  with  the  consciousness  that  the 
farther  you  go  the  farther  you've  got  to  get  back,  and  that  the 
distance  still  to  be  done  is  an  indeterminate  quantity,  is  agreeable 
to  no  one ;  but  it  was  especially  vexatious  to  George  Rosewarne, 
who  liked  to  take  things  quietly,  and  could  not  understand  what 
all  the  fuss  was  about.  Why  should  he  be  sent  on  this  mad  chase 
at  midnight?  If  anybody  Avanted  to  marry  either  of  the  girls, 
why  didn't  he  do  so,  and  say  no  more  about  it  ?  Rosewarne  had 
been  merely  impatient  and  annoyed  when  he  set  out ;  but  the 
longer  he  rode,  and  the  more  he  communed  with  himself,  the 
deeper  grew  his  sense  of  the  personal  injury  that  had  been  done 
him  by  this  act  of  folly. 

It  was  a  very  lonely  ride  indeed.  There  was  not  a  human  being 
abroad  at  that  hour.  When  he  passed  a  few  cottages  from  time 
to  time  the  windows  were  dark.     Then  they  had  just  been  put- 

N 


290  THREE    FEATHERS. 

ting  down  a  lot  of  loose  stones  at  several  parts  of  the  road,  which 
caused  Mi*.  Eosewarne  to  swear. 

"  I'll  bet  a  sovereign,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  that  old  Job  kept 
them  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  he  opened  Paddock's  Gate.  I 
believe  the  old  fool  goes  to  bed.  "Well,  they've  waked  him  up  for 
me,  anyway." 

There  was  some  consolation  in  this  surmise,  Avhich  was  well 
founded.  When  Rosewarne  reached  the  toll-bar,  there  was  at 
least  a  light  in  the  small  house.  lie  struck  on  the  door  with 
the  handle  of  his  riding-whip,  and  called  out — 

"  Hi,  hi !  Job  !     Come  out,  you  old  fool !" 

An  old  man,  with  very  bandy  legs,  came  hobbling  out  of  the 
toll-house,  and  went  to  open  the  gate,  talking  and  muttering  to 
himself — 

"  Ay,  ay  !  so  yii  be  agwoin'  after  the  young  uns,  Maister  Rose- 
warne ?  Ay,  ay  !  yii'U  go-  up  many  a  lane,  and  by  manj^  a  fuzzy 
'ill,  and  acrass  a  bridge  or  two  afore  yii  come  up  wi'  'en,  Maister 
Rosewarne." 

"  Look  sharp,  Job !"  said  Rosewarne.  "  Carriage  been  through 
here  lately  ?" 

"  Ay,  ay,  Maister  Rosewarne  !  'ti^  a  good  half-hour  agone." 

"  A  half-hour,  you  idiot  ?"  said  Rosewarne,  now  in  a  thoroughly 
bad  temper.  "  You've  been  asleep  and  dreaming.  Here,  take 
your  confounded  money !" 

So  he  rode  on  again,  not  believing,  of  course,  old  Job's  mali- 
cious fabrication,  but  being  rendered  all  the  same  a  little  uncom- 
fortable by  it.  Fortunately,  the  cob  had  not  been  out  before 
that  day. 

More  deep  lanes,  more  high,  open,  windy  spaces,  more  silent 
cottages,  more  rough  stones  ;  and  always  the  measured  fall  of  the 
cob's  feet  and  the  continued  shining  and  throbbing  of  the  stars 
overhead.  At  last,  far  away  ahead,  on  the  top  of  a  high  incline, 
he  caught  sight  of  a  solitaiy  point  of  ruddy  fire,  which  presently 
disappeared.  That,  he  concluded,  was  the  carriage  he  was  pursu- 
ing going  around  a  corner,  and  showing  only  the  one  lamp  as  it 
turned.  They  were  not  so  far  in  front  of  him  as  he  had  sup- 
posed. 

But  how  to  overtake  them  ?  So  soon  as  they  heard  the  sound 
of  his  horse  would  they  dash  onward  at  all  risks,  and  have  a  race 
for  it  all  through  the  night  ?    In  that  case,  George  Rosewarne  in- 


INTO    CAPTIVITY.  291 

wardly  resolved  that  they  might  go  to  Plymouth,  or  into  the  deep 
s6a  beyond,  before  he  would  injure  his  favorite  cob. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  could  not  bring  them  to  a  stand-still  by 
threatening  to  shoot  at  his  own  daughters,  even  if  he  had  had  any- 
thing with  him  that  would  look  like  a  pistol.  Should  he  have  to 
rely  then  on  the  moral  terrors  of  a  parent's  authority  ?  George 
Rosewarne  was  inclined  to  laugh  when  he  thought  of  his  over- 
awing in  this  fashion  the  high  spirit  of  his  younger  daughter. 

By  slow  and  sure  degi'ees  he  gained  on  the  fugitives ;  and  as 
he  could  now  catch  some  sound  of  the  rattling  of  the  carriage- 
wheels,  they  must  also  hear  his  horse's  footfall.  Were  they  try- 
ing to  get  away  from  him  ?  On  the  contrary,  the  carriage  stopped 
altogether. 

That  Avas  Harry  Trelyon's  decision.  For  some  time  back  he 
had  been  listening  attentively.     At  length  he  said — 

"Don't  you  hear  some  one  riding  back  there?" 

"  Yes,  I  do  !"  said  "VVenna,  beginning  to  tremble. 

"  I  suppose  it  is  Mr.  Eoscorla  coming  after  us,"  the  young  man 
said  coolly.  "  Now  I  think  it  would  be  a  shame  to  drag  the  old 
gentleman  half-way  down  to  Plymouth,  He  must  have  had  a 
good  spell  already.  Shall  I  stop,  and  persuade  him  to  go  back 
home  to  bed  ?" 

"  Oh  no  !"  said  Mabyn,  who  was  all  for  getting  on  at  any  risk. 

"  Oh  no !"  Wenna  said,  fearing  the  result  of  an  encounter  be- 
tween the  two  men, 

"  I  must  stop,"  Trelyon  said.  "  It's  such  precious  hard  lines 
on  him.  I  shall  easily  persuade  him  that  he  would  be  better  at 
home." 

So  he  pulled  up  the  horses,  and  quietly  waited  by  the  road- 
side for  a  few  minutes.  The  unknown  rider  drew  nearer  and 
more  near. 

"  That  isn't  Roscorla's  pony,"  said  Trelyon,  listening.  "  That's 
more  like  your  father's  cob." 

"  My  father !"  said  AVenna  in  a  low  voice, 

"My  darling,  you  needn't  be  afraid,  whoever  it  is,"  Trelyon 
said. 

"  Certainly  not,"  added  Mabyn,  who  was  far  more  uncomfort- 
able than  she  chose  to  appear,  "  Who  can  prevent  us  going  on  ? 
They  don't  lock  you  up  in  convents  nowadays.  If  it  is  Mr,  Ro&- 
corla,  you  just  let  me  talk  to  him." 


292  THREE    FEATHERS. 

Their  doubt  on  that  head  was  soon  set  at  rest.  White  Charley, 
■with  liis  long  swinging  trot,  soon  brought  George  Rosewarne  up 
to  the  side  of  the  phaeton,  and  the  girls,  long  ere  he  had  arrived, 
had  recognized  in  the  gloom  the  tall  figure  of  their  father.  Even 
Mabyn  was  a  trifle  nervous. 

But  George  Rosewamc — perhaps  because  he  was  a  little  paci- 
fied by  their  having  stopped — did  not  rage  and  fume  as  a  father 
is  expected  to  do  whose  daughter  has  run  away  from  him.  As 
soon  as  he  had  pulled  up  his  horse,  he  called  out  in  a  petulant 
tone — 

"  Well !  what  the  devil  is  all  this  about  ?" 

"  ril  tell  you,  sir,"  said  Trelyon,  quite  respectfully  and  quite 
firmly.     "  I  wished  to  marry  your  daughter  Wenna — " 

"  And  why  couldn't  you  do  that  in  Eglosilyan,  instead  of  mak- 
ing a  fool  of  everybody  all  around  ?"  Rosewarne  said,  still  talking 
in  an  angry  and  vexed  way,  as  of  one  who  had  been  personally 
injured. 

"  Oh,  dada !"  Mabyn  cried,  "  you  don't  know  how  it  happened ; 
but  they  couldn't  have  got  married  there.  There's  that  horrid 
old  wretch,  Mr.  Roscorla — and  Wenna  was  quite  a  slave  to  him, 
and  afraid  of  him — and  the  only  way  Avas  to  carry  her  away  from 
him — and  so — " 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  Mabyn !"  her  father  said.  "  You'd  drive 
a  windmill  with  your  talk !" 

"  But  what  she  says  is  true  enough,"  Trelyon  said.  '*  Roscorla 
has  a  claim  on  her — this  was  my  only  chance,  and  I  took  it.  Now 
look  here,  Mr.  Rosewarne ;  you've  a  right  to  be  angry  and  all  that 
— perhaps  you  are ;  but  what  good  will  it  do  you  to  see  Wenna 
left  to  marry  Roscorla  ?" 

"  What  good  will  it  do  me  ?"  said  George  Rosewarne  pettishly. 
"  I  don't  care  which  of  you  she  marries — " 

"  Then  you'll  let  us  go  on,  dada  ?"  Mabyn  cried.  "  Will  you 
come  with  us  ?  Oh,  do  come  with  us !  AVe're  only  going  to 
Plymouth." 

Even  the  angry  father  could  not  withstand  the  absurdity  of 
this  appeal.     lie  burst  into  a  roar  of  ill-tempered  laughter, 

"  I  like  that !"  he  cried.  "  Asking  a  man  to  help  his  daugh- 
ter to  run  away  from  his  own  house !  It's  my  impression,  my 
young  mistress,  that  you're  at  the  bottom  of  all  this  nonsense. 
Come,  come  !   enough  of  it,  Trelyon !  be  a  sensible  fellow,  and 


INTO    CAPTIVITY.  293 

turn  your  horses  round — wli}-,  the  notion  of  going  to  Plymouth 
at  this  time  o'  night !" 

Trelyon  looked  at  his  companion.  She  put  her  hand  on  his 
arm,  and  said,  in  a  trembling  whisper — 

"  Oh  yes !  pray  let  us  go  back." 

"  You  know  what  you  are  going  to,  then  ?"  said  he  coldly.  She 
trembled  still  more. 

"  Come,  come !"  said  her  father,  "  you  mustn't  stop  here  all 
night.  You  may  thank  me  for  preventing  your  becoming  the 
talk  of  the  whole  country." 

"  I  shouldn't  have  minded  that  much,"  Mabyn  said  ruefully, 
and  very  like  to  cry,  indeed,  as  the  horses  set  out  upon  their  jour- 
ney back  to  Eglosilyan. 

It  was  not  a  pleasant  journey  for  any  of  them — least  of  all  for 
Wenna  Eosewarne,  who  having  been  bewildered  by  one  wild 
glimpse  of  liberty,  felt  with  terror  and  infinite  sadness  and  de- 
spair the  old  manacles  closing  around  her  life  again.  And  what 
although  the  neighbors  might  remain  in  ignorance  of  what  she 
had  done  ?     She  herself  knew,  and  that  was  enough. 

"  You  think  no  one  will  know  ?"  Mabyn  called  out  spitefully 
to  her  father.  "  Do  you  think  old  Job  at  the  gate  has  lost  either 
his  tongue  or  his  nasty  temper  ?" 

"  Leave  Job  to  me,"  the  father  replied. 

"When  they  got  to  Paddock's  Gate  the  old  man  had  again  to 
be  roused,  and  he  came  out  grumbling. 

"  Well,  you  discontented  old  sinner !"  Rosewarne  called  to  him, 
"  don't  you  like  having  to  earn  a  living  ?" 

"  A  fine  livin'  to  wait  on  folks  that  don't  knaw  their  own  mind, 
and  keep  comin'  and  goin'  along  the  road  o'  nights  like  a  weaver's 
shuttle.     Ilm !" 

"  Well,  Job,  you  sha'n't  suffer  for  it  this  time,"  Rosewarne  said. 
"  Fve  won  my  bet.  If  you  made  fifty  pounds  by  riding  a  few 
miles  out,  what  would  you  give  the  gatekeeper?" 

Even  that  suggestion  failed  to  inveigle  Job  into  a  better  humor. 

"  Here's  a  sovereign  for  you,  Job.  Now  go  to  bed.  Good- 
night !" 

How  long  the  distance  seemed  to  be  ere  they  saw  the  lights  of 
Eglosilyan  again !  There  were  only  one  or  two  small  points  of 
red  fire,  indeed,  where  the  inn  stood.  The  rest  of  the  village  was 
buried  in  darkness. 


294  THREE    FEATHERS. 

**  Oh !  Avliat  will  mother  say  ?"  AVenna  said  in  a  low  voice  to 
her  sister. 

"  She  will  be  very  sorry  we  did  not  get  away  altogether," 
Mabyn  answered.  "  And  of  course  it  was  Mr.  Roscorla  who  spoiled 
it.  Nobody  knew  anything  about  it  but  himself.  He  must  have 
run  on  to  the  inn  and  told  some  one.  Wasn't  it  mean,  Wenna  ? 
Couldn't  he  see  that  he  wasn't  wanted  ?" 

"Are  you  talking  of  Mr.  Roscorla ?"  Trelyon  said  —  George 
Rosewarne  was  a  bit  ahead  at  this  moment.  "  I  wish  to  good- 
ness I  had  gagged  him  and  slung  him  below  the  phaeton,  I 
knew  he  would  be  coming  down  there.  I  expected  him  every 
moment.     Why  were  you  so  late,  Mabyn  ?" 

"  Oh  !  you  needn't  blame  me,  Mr.  Trelyon,"  said  Mabyn,  rather 
hurt.     "  You  know  I  did  everything  I  could  for  you." 

"  I  know  you  did,  Mabyn  :  I  wish  it  had  turned  out  better." 

What  was  this,  then,  that  Wenna  heard,  as  she  sat  there,  be- 
wildered, apprehensive,  and  sad -hearted?  Had  her  own  sister 
joined  in  this  league  to  carry  her  off  ?  It  was  not  merely  the  au- 
dacity of  young  Trelyon  that  had  led  to  their  meeting?  But  she 
was  altogether  too  frightened  and  wretched  to  be  angiy. 

As  they  got  down  into  Eglosilyan,  and  turned  the  sharp  corner 
over  the  bridge,  they  did  not  notice  the  figure  of  a  man  who  had 
been  concealing  himself  in  the  darkness  of  a  shed  belonging  to  a 
slate-yard.  So  soon  as  they  had  passed  he  went  some  little  way 
after  them  until,  from  the  bridge,  he  could  see  them  stop  at  the 
door  of  the  inn.  Was  it  Mrs.  Rosewarne  who  came  out  of  the 
glare,  and  with  something  like  a  cry  of  delight  caught  her  daugh- 
ter in  her  arms  ?  He  watched  the  figures  go  inside,  and  the  phae- 
ton drive  away  up  the  hill ;  then,  in  the  perfect  silence  of  the 
night,  he  turned  and  slowly  made  his  way  towards  Basset  Cottage. 


AN    ANGRY    INTERVIEW.  295 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

AN     ANGRY     INTERVIEW. 

Next  morning  George  Rosewarne  was  seated  on  the  old  oak 
bench  in  front  of  the  inn,  reading  a  newspaper.  Happening  to 
look  up,  he  saw  Mr.  Roscorla  hurrying  towards  him  over  the  bridge, 
with  no  very  pleasant  expression  on  his  face.  As  he  came  nearer, 
he  saw  that  the  man  Avas  strangely  excited. 

"  I  want  to  see  your  daughter  alone,"  he  said. 

"  You  needn't  speak  as  if  I  had  tried  to  run  away  with  her," 
Rosewarne  answered,  with  more  good-nature  than  was  his  wont. 
"  Well,  go  indoors.     Ask  for  her  mother." 

As  Roscorla  passed  him  there  was  a  look  in  his  eyes  which 
rather  startled  George  Rosewarne. 

"  Is  it  possible,"  he  asked  himself,  "  that  this  elderly  chap  is 
really  badly  in  love  Avith  our  Wenna  ?" 

But  another  thought  struck  him.  He  suddenly  jumped  up, 
followed  Roscorla  into  the  passage,  where  the  latter  was  standing, 
and  said  to  him — 

"  Don't  you  be  too  harsh  with  Wenna.  She's  only  a  girl ;  and 
they're  all  alike."  This  hint,  however  discourteous  in  its  terms, 
had  some  significance  as  coming  from  a  man  who  was  six  inches 
taller  than  Mr.  Roscorla. 

Mr.  Roscorla  was  shown  into  an  empty  room.  He  marched  up 
and  down  looking  at  nothing.  He  Avas  simply  in  an  ungovern- 
able rage. 

AVenna  came,  and  shut  the  door  behind  her ;  and  for  a  second 
or  so  he  stared  at  her  as  if  expecting  her  to  burst  into  passionate 
professions  of  remorse.  On  the  contrary,  there  was  something 
more  than  calmness  in  her  appearance — there  was  the  desperation 
of  a  hunted  animal  that  is  driven  to  turn  upon  its  pursuer  in  the 
mere  agony  of  helplessness. 

"  Well !"  said  he — for,  indeed,  his  passion  almost  depriA'cd  him 
of  his  power  of  speech — "  Avhat  have  you  to  say  ?  Perhaps  noth- 
ing.    It  is  nothing,  perhaps,  to  a  Avoiuan  to  be  treacherous — to 


29G  THREE    FEATHERS. 

tell  smootli  lies  to  your  face,  and  to  go  plotting  against  you  behind 
your  back  ?    You  have  nothing  to  say  ?    You  have  notliing  to  say  ?" 

"  I  have  notliing  to  say,"  she  said,  with  some  little  sadness  in 
her  voice,  "  that  would  excuse  me,  either  to  you  or  myself — yes ! 
I  know  that.     But — but  I  did  not  intentionally  deceive  you — " 

He  turned  away  with  an  angry  gesture. 

"  Indeed,  indeed  I  did  not,"  she  said  piteously.  "  I  had  mista- 
ken my  own  feelings — the  temptation  was  too  great.  Oh,  Mr. 
Roscorla !  you  need  not  say  harsh  things  of  me,  for  indeed  I  think 
worse  of  myself  than  you  can  do." 

"And  I  suppose  you  want  forgiveness  now?"  he  added  bitterly. 
"But  I  have  had  enough  of  that.  A  woman  pledges  you  her  af- 
fection, promises  to  marry  you,  professes  to  have  no  doubts  as  to 
the  future ;  and  all  the  while  she  is  secretly  encouraging  the  atten- 
tions of  a  young  jackanapes  who  is  playing  with  her  and  making 
a  fool  of  her — " 

Wenna  Rosewarne's  cheeks  began  to  burn  red :  a  less  angry 
man  would  have  taken  warning. 

"  Yes — playing  with  her  and  making  a  fool  of  her.  And  for 
what  ?  To  pass  an  idle  time,  and  make  her  the  byword  of  her 
neighbors." 

"  It  is  not  true !  it  is  not  true !"  she  said  indignantly ;  and  there 
was  a  dangerous  light  in  her  eyes.  "  If  he  were  here,  you  would 
not  dare  to  say  such  things  to  me — no,  you  would  not  dare !" 

"Perhaps  you  expect  him  to  call  after  the  pretty  exploit  of  last 
night  ?"  asked  Roscorla,  with  a  sneer. 

"  I  do  not,"  she  said.  "  I  hope  I  shall  never  see  him  again.  It 
is — it  is  only  misery  to  every  one — " 

And  here  she  broke  down,  in  spite  of  herself.  Iler  anger  gave 
way  to  a  burst  of  tears. 

"But  what  madness  is  this?"  Roscorla  cried.  "You  wish  never 
to  meet  him  again ;  yet  you  are  ready  at  a  moment's  notice  to  run 
away  with  him,  disgracing  yourself  and  your  family.  You  make 
promises  about  never  seeing  him ;  you  break  them  the  instant  you 
get  the  opportunity.  You  profess  that  your  girlish  fancy  for  a 
barber's  block  of  a  fellow  has  been  got  over ;  and  then,  as  soon  as 
one's  back  is  turned,  you  reveal  your  hypocrisy — " 

"  Indeed  I  did  not  mean  to  deceive  .you,"  she  said,  imploringly. 
"  I  did  believe  that  all  that  was  over  and  gone.  I  thought  it  was 
a  foolish  fancy — " 


AN    ANGRY    INTERVIEW.  297 

"  And  now  ?"  said  he,  hotly. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Roscorla,  you  ought  to  pity  me  instead  of  being  angry 
with  me.  I  do  love  him — I  cannot  help  it.  You  will  not  ask  me 
to  marry  you !  See,  I  will  undertake  not  to  marry  him — I  will 
undertake  never  to  see  him  again — if  only  you  will  not  ask  me  to 
keep  my  promise  to  you.     How  can  I  ?     How  can  I  ?" 

"  Pity  you !  and  these  are  the  confessions  you  make !"  he  ex- 
claimed. "Why,  are  you  not  ashamed  of  yourself  to  say  such 
things  to  me  ?  And  so  you  would  undertake  not  to  marry  him  ? 
I  know  what  your  undertakings  are  worth !" 

He  had  struck  her  hard — his  very  hardest,  indeed ;  but  she 
would  not  suffer  herself  to  reply,  for  she  believed  she  deserved  far 
more  punishment  than  he  could  inflict.  All  that  she  could  hope 
for — all  that  her  whole  nature  cried  out  for — was  that  he  should 
not  think  her  treacherous.  She  had  not  intentionally  deceived 
him.  She  had  not  planned  that  effort  at  escape.  But  when,  in 
a  hurried  and  pathetic  fashion,  she  endeavored  to  explain  all  this 
to  him,  he  would  not  listen.  He  angrily  told  her  he  knew  well 
how  women  could  gloss  over  such  matters.  He  was  no  school-boy 
to  be  hoodwinked.  It  was  not  as  if  she  had  had  no  warning;  her 
conduct  before  had  been  bad  enough,  when  it  was  possible  to  over- 
look it  on  the  score  of  carelessness,  but  now  it  was  such  as  would 
disgrace  any  woman  who  knew  her  honor  was  concerned  in  hold- 
ing to  the  word  she  had  spoken. 

"And  what  is  he?"  he  cried,  mad  with  wrath  and  jealousy. 
"  An  ignorant  booby !  a  ploughboy  !  a  lout  who  has  neither  the 
manners  of  a  gentleman  nor  the  education  of  a  day-laborer — " 

"  Yes,  you  may  well  say  such  things  of  him  now,"  said  she,  with 
her  eyes  flashing,  "  when  his  back  is  turned.  You  would  not  say  so 
if  he  were  here.  But  he — yes,  if  he  were  here — he  would  tell  you 
what  he  thinks  of  you ;  for  he  is  a  gentleman  and  not  a  coward." 

Angry  as  he  was,  Mr.  Roscorla  was  astounded.  The  fire  in  her 
eyes,  the  flush  in  her  cheeks,  the  impetuosity  of  her  voice — were 
these  the  patient  Wenna  of  old  ?  But  a  girl  betrays  herself  some- 
times, if  she  happens  to  have  to  defend  her  lover. 

"  Oh !  it  is  shameful  of  you  to  say  such  things !"  she  said.  "  And 
you  know  they  are  not  true.  There  is  not  any  one  I  have  ever 
seen  who  is  so  manly  and  frank  and  unselfish  as  Mr.  Trelyon — 
not  any  one ;  and  if  I  have  seen  that — if  I  have  admired  too  much 
— well,  that  is  a  great  misfortune,  and  I  have  to  suffer  for  it." 

N2 


298  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  To  suffer  ? — yes,"  said  he,  bitterly.  "  That  is  a  pretty  form 
of  suffering  that  makes  you  plan  a  runaway  marriage — a  marriage 
that  would  bring  into  your  possession  the  largest  estates  in  the 
north  of  Cornwall.  A  very  pretty  form  of  suffering  1  May  I  ask 
when  the  experiment  is  to  be  repeated  ?" 

"You  may  insult  me  as  you  like — I  am  only  a  woman,"  she  said. 

"  Insult  you  f '  he  cried,  with  fresh  vehemence.  "  Is  it  insult 
to  speak  the  truth  ?  Yesterday  forenoon,  when  I  saw  you,  you 
■were  all  smiles  and  smoothness.  When  I  spoke  of  our  marriage, 
you  made  no  objection.  But  all  the  same  you  knew  that  at 
night—" 

"  I  did  not  know — I  did  not  know  !"  she  said.  "  You  ought 
to  believe  me  when  I  tell  you  I  knew  no  moi-e  about  it  than  you 
did.  "When  I  met  him  there  at  night — it  was  all  so  sudden,  so  un- 
expected— I  scarcely  knew  what  I  said ;  but  now — but  now  I  have 
time  to  think —  Oh,  Mr.  Roscorla,  don't  think  that  I  do  not  regret 
it !  I  will  do  anything  you  ask  me — I  will  promise  w^hat  you 
please — indeed,  I  will  undertake  never  to  see  him  again  as  long  as 
I  live  in  this  world — only,  you  won't  ask  me  to  keep  my  promise 
to  you — " 

He  made  no  reply  to  this  offer;  for  a  step  outside  the  door 
caused  him  to  mutter  something  very  like  an  oath  between  his 
teeth.  The  door  was  thrown  open,  Mabyn  marched  in — a  little 
pale,  but  very  erect. 

"  Mabyn,  leave  us  alone  for  a  moment  or  two,"  said  "\Venna, 
turning  away  so  as  to  hide  the  tcj^rs  on  her  face. 

"  I  will  not.     I  want  to  speak  a  word  or  two  to  Mr.  Roscorla." 

"  Mabyn,  I  want  you  to  go  away  just  now\" 

Mabyn  went  over  to  her  sister,  and  took  her  by  the  hand. 

"  Wenna,  dear,  go  away  to  your  own  room.  You've  had  quite 
enough — you  are  trembling  all  over.  I  suppose  he'll  make  me 
tremble  next." 

"  Reallv,  I  think  your  interference  is  rather  extraordinary.  Miss 
Mabyn,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  striving  to  contain  his  rage. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Mabyn  meekly.  "  I  only  want  to 
say  a  word  or  two.  Wouldn't  it  be  better  here  than  before  the 
servants  ?" 

With  that  she  led  Wenna  away.  In  a  minute  or  two  she  re- 
turned. Mr.  Roscorla  would  rather  have  been  shut  up  in  a  den 
with  a  hungry  tigress. 


AN    ANGRY    INTERVIEW.  299 

"  I  am  quite  at  your  service,"  he  said  with  a  bitter  irony.  "  I 
suppose  you  have  some  very  important  communication  to  make, 
considering  the  way  in  which  you — " 

"  Interfered  ?  Yes,  it  is  time  that  I  interfered,"  Mabyn  said,  still 
quite  cahn  and  a  trifle  pale.  "  Mr.  Roscorla,  to  be  frank,  I  don't 
like  you,  and  perhaps  I  am  not  quite  fair  to  you.  I  am  only  a 
young  girl,  and  don't  know  what  the  world  would  say  about  your 
relations  with  Wenna.  But  "Wenna  is  my  sister,  and  I  see  she  is 
Avretched ;  and  her  wretchedness — well,  that  comes  of  her  engage- 
ment to  you." 

She  was  standing  before  him,  with  her  eyes  cast  down,  appar- 
ently determined  to  be  very  moderate  in  her  speech.  But  there 
was  a  cruel  frankness  in  her  words  which  hurt  Mr.  Roscorla  a  good 
deal  more  than  any  tempest  of  passion  into  which  she  might  have 
worked  herself. 

"  Is  that  all  ?"  said  he.  "  You  have  not  startled  me  with  any 
revelations." 

"  I  was  going  to  say,"  continued  Mabyn,  "  that  a  gentleman  who 
has  really  a  regard  for  a  girl  would  not  insist  on  her  keeping  a 
promise  which  only  rendered  her  unhappy.  I  don't  see  what  you 
are  to  gain  by  it.  I  suppose  you — you  expect  Wenna  to  marry 
you  ?  Well,  I  dare  say  if  you  called  on  her  to  punish  herself  that 
way,  she  might  do  it.  But  what  good  would  that  do  you  ?  Would 
you  like  to  have  a  wife  Avho  was  in  love  with  another  man  ?" 

"  You  have  become  quite  logical.  Miss  Mabyn,"  said  he,  "  and 
argument  suits  you  better  than  getting  into  a  rage.  And  much 
of  what  you  say  is  quite  true.  You  are  a  very  young  girl.  You 
don't  know  much  of  what  the  world  would  say  about  anything. 
But  being  furnished  with  these  admirable  convictions,  did  it  never 
occur  to  you  that  you  might  not  be  acting  wisely  in  blundering 
into  an  affair  of  which  you  know  nothing?" 

The  coldly  sarcastic  fashion  in  which  he  spoke  threatened  to 
disturb  Mabyn's  forced  equanimity. 

"  Know  nothing  ?"  she  said.  "  I  know  everything  about  it ; 
and  I  can  see  that  my  sister  is  miserable — that  is  sufficient  rea- 
son for  ray  interference.  Mr.  Roscorla,  you  won't  ask  her  to  mar- 
ry you !" 

Had  the  proud  and  passionate  Mabyn  condescended  to  make 
an  appeal  to  her  ancient  enemy  ?  At  least  she  raised  her  eyes  ; 
and  they  seemed  to  plead  for  mercy. 


300  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  Come,  come !"  he  said,  roughly,  "  I've  had  enough  of  all  this 
sham  beseeching ;  I  know  what  it  means.  Trelyon  is  a  richer  man 
than  I  am ;  she  has  let  her  idle  girlish  notions  go  dreaming  day- 
dreams ;  and  so  I  am  expected  to  stand  aside.  There  has  been 
enough  of  this  nonsense.  She  is  not  a  child ;  she  knows  what 
she  undertook  of  her  own  free  will ;  and  she  knows  she  can  get 
rid  of  this  school-girl  fancy  directly  if  she  chooses.  I  for  one 
won't  help  her  to  disgrace  herself." 

Mabyn  began  to  breathe  a  little  more  quickly.  She  had  tried 
to  be  reasonable ;  she  had  even  humbled  herself  and  begged  from 
him ;  now  there  was  a  sensation  in  her  chest  as  of  some  rising 
emotion  that  demanded  expression  in  quick  words. 

"  You  will  try  to  make  her  marry  you  ?"  said  she,  looking  him 
in  the  face. 

"  I  Avill  try  to  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  said  he.  "  She  can  do 
as  she  likes.  But  she  knows  Avhat  an  honorable  woman  would 
do." 

"And  I,"  said  Mabyn,  her  temper  at  length  quite  getting  the 
better  of  her,  "  I  know  what  an  honorable  man  would  do.  He 
Avould  refuse  to  bind  a  girl  to  a  promise  which  she  fears.  He 
would  consider  her  happiness  to  be  of  more  importance  than  his 
comfort.  ^Vhy,  I  don't  believe  you  care  at  all  whether  Wenna 
marries  you  or  not — it  is  only  you  can't  bear  her  being  married 
to  the  man  she  really  does  love — it  is  only  envy,  that's  what  it  is. 
Oh  !  I  am  ashamed  to  think  there  is  a  man  alive  who  would  force 
a  girl  into  becoming  his  wife  on  such  terms — " 

*'  There  is  certainly  one  considerable  objection  to  my  marrying 
your  sister,"  said  he,  with  great  politeness.  "The  manners  of 
some  of  her  relatives  might  prove  embarrassing." 

"  Yes,  that  is  true  enough,"  Mabyn  said,  with  hot  cheeks.  "  If 
ever  I  became  a  relative  of  j'ours,  my  manners  no  doubt  would 
embarrass  you  very  considerably.  But  I  am  not  a  relative  of 
yours  as  yet,  nor  is  my  sister." 

"  May  I  consider  that  you  have  said  what  you  had  to  say  ?"  said 
he,  taking  up  his  hat. 

Proud  and  angry,  and  at  the  same  time  mortified  by  her  defeat, 
Mabyn  found  herself  speechless.  He  did  not  offer  to  shake  hands 
with  her.  He  bowed  to  her  in  passing  out.  She  made  the  least 
possible  acknowledgment,  and  then  she  was  alone.  Of  course,  a 
hearty  cry  followed.     She  felt  she  had  done  no  good.     She  had 


THE  OLD  HALF-FORGOTTEN  JOKE.  301 

determined  to  be  calm  ;  whereas  all  the  calmness  had  been  on  his 
side,  and  she  had  been  led  into  speaking  in  a  manner  which  a  dis- 
creet and  well-bred  young  lady  would  have  shrunk  from  in  horror. 
Mabyn  sat  still  and  sobbed,  partly  in  anger  and  partly  in  disap- 
pointment ;  she  dared  not  even  go  to  tell  her  sister. 

But  Mr.  Roscorla,  as  he  went  over  the  bridge  again,  and  went 
up  to  Basset  Cottage,  had  lost  all  his  assumed  coolness  of  judg- 
ment and  demeanor.  He  felt  he  had  been  tricked  by  Wenna  and 
insulted  by  Mabyn,  while  his  rival  had  established  a  hold  which  it 
would  be  in  vain  for  him  to  seek  to  remove.  He  was  in  a  pas- 
sion of  rage.  He  would  not  go  near  Wenna  again.  He  would 
at  once  set  off  for  London  and  enjoy  himself  there  while  his  holi- 
day lasted ;  he  would  not  write  a  word  to  her ;  then,  when  the 
time  arrived,  he  would  set  sail  for  Jamaica,  leaving  her  to  her  own 
conscience.  He  was  suffering  a  good  deal  from  anger,  envy,  and 
jealousy  ;  but  he  was  consoled  by  the  thought  that  she  was  suffer- 
ing more.  And  he  reflected,  with  some  comfort  to  himself,  that 
she  would  scarcely  so  far  demean  herself  as  to  marry  Harry  Tre- 
lyon,  so  long  as  she  knew  in  her  heart  what  he,  Roscorla,  would 
think  of  her  for  so  doinsf. 


CHAPTER  XXXVHI. 

THE    OLD    HALF-FORGOTTEN    JOKE. 

"  Has  he  gone  ?"  Wenna  asked  of  her  sister,  the  next  day. 

"  Yes,  he  has,"  Mabyn  answered,  with  a  proud  and  revengeful 
face.  "  It  was  quite  true  what  Mrs.  Cornish  told  me — I've  no 
doubt  she  had  her  instructions.  He  has  just  driven  away  to 
Launceston,  on  his  way  to  London." 

"  Without  a  word  1" 

"  Would  you  like  to  have  had  another  string  of  arguments  ?" 
Mabyn  said,  impatiently.  "  Oh,  AVenna,  you  don't  know  what 
mischief  all  this  is  doing.  You  are  awake  all  night ;  you  cry 
half  the  day ;  what  is  to  be  the  end  of  it  ?  You  will  work  your- 
self into  a  fever." 

"Yes,  there  must  be  an  end  of  it,"  Wenna  said,  with  decision, 
"  not  for  myself  alone,  but  for  others.     That  is  all  the  reparation 


302  THREE    FEATHERS. 

I  can  make  now.  No  girl  in  all  tliis  country  has  ever  acted  so 
badly  as  I  have  done — just  look  at  the  misery  I  have  caused — 
but  now — " 

"  There  is  one  who  is  miserable,  because  he  loves  you,"  Mabyn 
said. 

"  Do  you  think  that  Mr.  Roscorla  has  no  feelings  ?  You  are  so 
unjust  to  him.  Well,  it  does  not  matter  now  :  all  this  must  come 
to  an  end.  Mabyn,  I  should  like  to  see  Mr.  Trclyon,  just  for  one 
minute." 

"  What  Avill  you  say  to  him,  Wenna  ?"  her  sister  said,  with  a 
sudden  fear. 

"  Something  that  it  is  necessary  to  say  to  him,  and  the  sooner 
it  is  over  the  better." 

Mabyn  rather  dreaded  the  result  of  this  interview ;  and  yet, 
she  reflected  to  herself,  here  was  an  opportunity  for  Harry  Tre- 
lyon  to  try  to  win  some  promise  from  her  sister.  Better,  in 
any  case,  that  they  should  meet  than  that  Wenna  should  sim- 
ply drive  him  away  into  banishment  without  a  word  of  expla- 
nation. 

The  meeting  was  easily  arranged.  On  the  next  morning,  long 
before  AVenna's  daily  round  of  duties  had  commenced,  the  two 
sisters  left  the  inn,  and  went  over  the  bridge,  and  out  to  the  bold 
promontory  of  black  rock  at  the  mouth  of  the  harbor.  There 
was  nobody  about.  This  October  morning  was  more  like  a  sum- 
mer-day ;  the  air  was  mild  and  still ;  the  blue  sky  without  a 
cloud;  the  shining  sea  plashed  around  the  rocks  with  the  soft 
murmuring  noise  of  a  July  calm.  It  was  on  these  rocks,  long 
ago,  that  Wenna  Rosewarne  had  pledged  herself  to  become  the 
wife  of  Mr.  Roscorla ;  and  at  that  time  life  had  seemed  to  her,  if 
not  brilliant  and  beautiful,  at  least  grateful  and  peaceful.  Now 
all  the  peace  had  gone  out  of  it. 

"  Oh,  my  darling !"  Trelyon  said,  as  she  advanced  alone  towards 
him — for  Mabyn  had  withdrawn.  "  It  is  so  good  of  you  to  come. 
Wenna,  what  has  frightened  you  ?" 

He  had  seized  both  her  hands  in  his ;  but  she  took  them  away 
again.  For  one  brief  second  her  eyes  had  met  his,  and  there  was 
a  sort  of  wistful  and  despairing  kindliness  in  them ;  then  she 
stood  before  him,  with  her  face  turned  away  from  him,  and  her 
voice  low  and  tremulous. 

"  I  did  wish  to  see  you — for  once — for  the  last  time,"  she  said. 


THE  OLD  HALF-FORGOTTEN  JOKE.  303 

"  If  you  had  gone  away,  you  would  have  carried  with  you  cruel 
thoughts  of  me.     I  wish  to  ask  your  forgiveness — " 

"  My  forgiveness  ?" 

"  Yes,  for  all  that  you  may  have  suffered ;  and — for  all  that 
may  trouble  you  in  the  future — not  in  the  future,  but  for  the  little 
time  you  will  remember  what  has  taken  place  here.  Mr.  Trelyon, 
I — I  did  not  know  !  Indeed,  it  is  all  a  mystery  to  me  now — and 
a  great  misery — " 

Her  lips  began  to  quiver ;  but  she  controlled  herself. 

"  And  surely  it  will  only  be  for  a  short  time,  if  you  think  of  it 
at  all.  You  are  young — you  have  all  the  world  before  you.  When 
you  go  away  among  other  people  and  see  all  the  different  things 
that  interest  a  young  man,  you  will  soon  forget  whatever  has  hap- 
pened here." 

"  And  you  say  that  to  me,"  he  said,  "  and  you  said  the  other 
night  that  you  loved  me.  It  is  nothing,  then,  for  people  who  love 
each  other  to  go  away,  and  be  consoled,  and  never  see  each  other 


again .« 

Again  the  lips  quivered  :  he  had  no  idea  of  the  terrible  effort 
that  was  needed  to  keep  this  girl  calm. 

"  I  did  say  that — "  she  said. 

"  And  it  was  true  ?"  he  broke  in. 

"  It  was  true  then — it  is  true  now — that  is  all  the  misery  of  it !" 
she  exclaimed,  with  tears  starting  to  her  eyes. 

"And  you  talk  of  our  being  separated  forever!"  he  cried. 
"  No ! — not  if  I  can  help  it !  Mabyn  has  told  me  of  all  your 
scruples — they  are  not  worth  looking  at.  I  tell  you  you  arc  no 
more  bound  to  that  man  than  Mabyn  is ;  and  that  isn't  much. 
If  he  is  such  a  mean  hound  as  to  insist  on  your  marrying  him, 
then  I  will  appeal  to  your  father  and  mother,  and  they  must  pre- 
vent him.  Or  I  will  go  to  him  myself,  and  settle  the  matter  in  a 
shorter  way — " 

"  You  cannot  now,"  she  said ;  "  he  has  gone  away.  And  what 
good  would  that  have  done?  I  would  never  marry  any  man  un- 
less I  could  do  so  with  a  clear  and  happy  conscience ;  and  if  you 
— if  you  and  Mabyn — see  nothing  in  my  treatment  of  him  that 
is  wrong,  then  that  is  very  strange ;  but  I  cannot  acquit  myself. 
No ;  I  hope  no  woman  Avill  ever  treat  you  as  I  have  treated  him. 
Look  at  his  position — an  elderly  man,  with  few  friends — he  has 
not  all  the  best  of  his  life  before  him  as  you  have — or  the  good 


304  THREE    FEATHERS. 

spirits  of  youth — and  after  he  had  gone  away  to  Jamaica,  taking 
my  promise  with  him — oh !  I  am  ashamed  of  myself  when  I 
think  on  all  that  has  happened." 

"  Then  you've  no  right  to  be,"  said  he,  hotly.  "  It  was  the 
most  natural  thing  in  the  world,  and  he  ought  to  have  known  it, 
that  a  young  girl  who  has  been  argued  into  engaging  lierself  to 
an  old  man  should  consider  her  being  in  love  with  another  man 
as  something  of  rather  more  importance — of  a  good  deal  more 
importance,  I  should  say.  And  his  suffering?  lie  suffers  no 
more  than  this  lump  of  rock  does.  That  is  not  his  way  of  think- 
ing— to  be  bothered  about  anything.  He  may  be  angry,  yes ! — 
and  vexed  for  the  moment,  as  is  natural ;  but  if  you  think  he  is 
going  about  the  world  with  a  load  of  agony  on  him,  then  you're 
quite  mistaken.  And  if  he  were,  what  good  could  you  do  by 
making  yourself  miserable  as  well  ?  Wenna,  do  be  reasonable, 
now." 

Had  not  another,  on  this  very  spot,  prayed  her  to  be  reason- 
able ?  She  had  yielded  then.  Mr.  Roscorla's  arguments  were  in- 
controvertible, and  she  had  shrinkingly  accepted  the  conclusion. 
Now,  young  Trelyon's  representations  and  pleadings  were  far  less 
cogent ;  but  how  strongly  her  heart  went  with  them  ! 

"  No !"  she  said,  as  if  she  were  shaking  off  the  influence  of  the 
tempter,  "  I  must  not  listen  to  you.  Yet  you  don't  seem  to  think 
that  it  costs  me  anything  to  ask  you  to  bid  me  good-bye  once 
and  for  all.  It  should  be  less  to  you  than  to  me.  A  girl  thinks 
of  these  things  more  than  a  man — she  has  little  else  to  think  of 
— he  goes  out  into  the  world  and  forgets.  And  you — you  will 
go  away,  and  you  will  become  such  a  man  as  all  who  know  you 
will  loA'e  to  speak  of  and  be  proud  of ;  and  some  day  you  will 
come  back,  and  if  you  like  to  come  down  to  the  inn,  then  there 
will  be  one  or  two  there  glad  to  see  you.  Mr.  Trelyon,  don't  ask 
me  to  tell  you  why  this  should  be  so.  I  know  it  to  be  right;  my 
heart  tells  me.     Now  I  will  say  good-bye  to  you." 

"  And  when  I  come  back  to  the  inn,  will  you  be  there  ?"  said 
he,  becoming  rather  pale.  "  No ;  you  will  be  married  to  a  man 
whom  you  will  hate." 

"  Indeed  no,"  she  said,  with  her  face  flushing  and  her  eyes  cast 
down.  "  How  can  that  be  after  what  has  taken  place  ?  He  could 
not  ask  me.  All  that  I  begged  of  him  before  he  went  away  was 
this — that  he  would  not  ask  me  to  marry  him;  and  if  only  he 


THE  OLD  HALF-FORGOTTEN  JOKE.  305 

■would  do  that,  I  promised  never  to  see  you  again — after  bidding 
you  good-bye  as  I  do  now." 

"  And  is  that  the  arrangement  ?"  said  he,  rather  roughly.  "  Are 
"we  to  play  at  dog  in  the  manger  ?  lie  is  not  to  marry  you  him- 
self ;  but  he  will  not  let  any  other  man  marry  you  ?" 

"  Surely  he  has  some  right  to  consideration,"  she  said. 

"  Well,  AVenna,"  said  he,  "if  you've  made  up  your  mind,  there's 
no  more  to  be  said.     I  think  you  are  needlessly  cruel — " 

"  You  won't  say  that,  just  as  we  are  parting,"  she  said,  in  a  low 
voice.     "Do  you  think  it  is  nothing  to  me?" 

He  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  with  a  great  sadness  and  com- 
punction in  his  eyes ;  then,  moved  by  an  uncontrollable  impulse, 
he  caught  her  in  his  arms,  and  kissed  her  on  the  lips. 

*'  Now,"  said  he,  with  his  face  white  as  death,  "  tell  me  that  you 
will  never  marry  any  other  man  as  long  as  you  live !" 

"  Yes,  I  will  say  that,"  she  said  to  him,  in  a  low  voice,  and  with 
a  face  as  white  as  his  own. 

"  Swear  it,  then  !" 

"  I  have  said  that  I  will  never  marry  any  other  man  than  you," 
she  said,  "  and  that  is  enougb — for  me.  But  as  for  you — why 
must  you  go  away  thinking  of  such  things  ?  You  will  see  some 
day  what  madness  it  would  have  been — you  will  come  some  day 
and  thank  me  for  having  told  you  so — and  then — and  then — if 
anything  should  be  mentioned  about  what  I  said  just  now,  you 
will  laugh  at  the  old  half-forgotten  joke — " 

AVell,  there  was  no  laughing  at  the  joke  just  then ;  for  the  girl 
burst  into  tears,  and  in  the  midst  of  that  she  hastily  pressed  his 
hand  and  hurried  away.  He  watched  her  go  around  the  rocks  to 
the  cleft  leading  down  to  the  harbor.  There  she  was  rejoined  by 
her  sister;  and  the  two  of  them  went  slowly  along  the  path  of 
broken  slate,  with  the  green  hill  above,  the  blue  water  below,  and 
the  fair  sunshine  all  around  them.  Many  a  time  he  recalled  after- 
wards— and  always  with  an  increasing  weight  at  his  heart — how 
sombre  seemed  to  him  that  bright  October  day,  and  the  pictur- 
esque opening  of  the  coast  leading  into  Eglosilyan.  For  it  was 
the  last  glimpse  of  Wenna  Rosewarne  that  he  was  to  have  for 
many  a  day ;  and  a  sadder  picture  was  never  treasured  up  in  a 
man's  memory. 

"  Oh,  AVenna,  what  have  you  said  to  him  that  you  tremble  so  ?" 
Mabyn  asked. 


306  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  I  Lave  bid  liim  good-bye — that  is  all." 

"  Not  for  always  ?" 

"  Yes,  for  always." 

"  And  lie  is  going  away  again,  then  ?" 

"  Yes,  as  a  young  man  should.  AVliy  should  he  stop  here  to 
make  himself  wretched  over  impossible  fancies?  He  will  go  out 
into  the  world ;  and  he  has  splendid  health  and  spirits ;  and  he 
Avill  forget  all  this." 

"  And  you — you  are  anxious  to  forget  it  all  too  ?" 

"  AVould  it  not  be  better?  What  good  can  come  of  dreaming? 
"Well,  I've  plenty  of  work  to  do ;  that  is  well." 

Mabyn  was  very  much  inclined  to  cry  :  all  her  beautiful  visions 
of  the  future  happiness  of  her  sister  had  been  rudely  dispelled. 
All  her  schemes  and  machinations  had  gone  for  nothing.  There 
only  remained  to  her,  in  the  way  of  consolation,  the  fact  that 
Wenna  still  wore  the  sapphire  ring  that  Harry  Trelyon  had  sent 
her. 

"And  what  will  his  mother  think  of  you  ?"  said  Mabyn,  as  a  last 
argument,  "  when  she  finds  you  have  sent  him  away  altogether — 
to  go  into  the  army,  and  go  abroad,  and  perhaps  die  of  yellow- 
fever,  or  be  shot  by  the  Sepoys  and  the  Caffres  ?" 

"  She  would  have  hated  mc  if  I  had  married  him,"  said  Wenna, 
simply. 

"  Oh,  Wenna,  how  dare  you  say  such  a  thing !"  Mabyn  cried. 
"  What  do  you  mean  by  it  ?" 

"  Would  a  lady  in  her  position  like  her  only  son  to  marry  the 
daughter  of  an  innkeeper  ?"  Wenna  asked,  rather  indifferently : 
indeed,  her  thoughts  were  elsewhere. 

"  I  tell  you,  there's  no  one  in  the  world  she  loves  like  you — I 
can  see  it  every  time  she  comes  down  for  you — and  she  believes, 
and  I  believe  too,  that  you  have  changed  Mr.  Trelyon's  way  of 
talking  and  his  manner  of  treating  people  in  such  a  fashion  as  no 
one  would  have  considered  possible.  Do  you  think  she  hasn't 
eyes  ?  He  is  scarcely  ever  impertinent  now — when  he  is  it  is  al- 
ways in  good-nature,  and  never  in  sulkiness.  Look  at  his  kind- 
ness to  Mr.  Trewhella's  granddaughter ;  and  Mr.  Trewhella  a  cler- 
gyman too.  Did  he  ever  use  to  take  his  mother  out  for  a  drive  ? 
No,  never !  And  of  course  she  knows  whom  it's  all  owing  to  ; 
and  if  you  would  marry  Mr.  Trelyon,  Wenna,  I  believe  she  would 
worship  you  and  tliink  nothing  good  enough  for  you — " 


NEW    AMBITIONS.  30 7 

"  Mabyn,  I  am  going  to  ask  something  of  you." 

"  Oh  yes,  I  know  what  it  is,"  her  sister  said.  "  I  am  not  to 
speak  any  more  about  your  marriage  with  Mr.  Trelyon.  But  I 
won't  give  you  any  such  promise,  Wenna.  I  don't  consider  that 
that  old  man  has  any  hold  on  you." 

Wenna  said  nothing,  for  at  this  moment  they  entered  the 
house.  Mabyn  went  up  with  her  sister  to  her  room;  then  she 
stood  undecided  for  a  moment ;  finally  she  said — 

"  Wenna,  if  I've  vexed  you,  I'm  very  sorry.  I  won't  speak  of 
Mr.  Trelyon  if  you  don't  wish  it.  But  indeed  you  don't  know 
how  many  people  are  anxious  that  you  should  be  happy — and  you 
can't  expect  your  own  sister  not  to  be  as  anxious  as  any  one 
else—" 

"  Mabyn,  you're  a  good  girl,"  Wenna  said,  kissing  her.  "  But 
I  am  rather  tired  to-day — I  think  I  shall  lie  down  for  a  little 
while—" 

Mabyn  uttered  a  sharp  cry,  for  her  sister  had  fallen  back  on  a 
chair,  white  and  insensible.  She  hastily  bathed  her  forehead  with 
cold  water ;  she  chafed  her  hands  ;  she  got  hold  of  some  smelling- 
salts.  It  was  only  a  faint,  after  all ;  and  Wenna,  having  come  to, 
said  she  would  lie  down  on  the  sofa  for  a  few  minutes.  Mabyn 
said  nothing  to  her  mother  about  all  this,  for  it  would  have  driven 
Mrs.  Rosewarne  wild  with  anxiety  ;  but  she  herself  was  rather  dis- 
quieted with  Wenna's  appearance,  and  she  said  to  herself,  with 
great  bitterness  of  heart — 

"  If  my  sister  falls  ill,  I  know  who  has  done  that." 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

NEW    AMBITIONS. 


Mr.  Roscorla,  haying  had  few  friends  throughout  his  life,  had 
developed  a  most  methodical  habit  of  communing  with  himself 
on  all  possible  subjects,  but  more  particularly,  of  course,  upon  his 
own  affairs.  He  used  up  his  idle  hours  in  defining  his  position 
with  regard  to  the  people  and  things  around  him,  and  he  was 
never  afraid  to  convince  himself  of  the  exact  truth.  He  never 
tried  to  cheat  himself  into  the  belief  that  he  was  more  unselfish 


308  THREE    FEATHERS. 

than  might  appear;  if  otlicr  people  thought  so,  good  and  "vvcll. 
lie,  at  least,  was  not  a  hypocrite  to  himself. 

Now  he  had  not  been  gone  above  a  couple  of  hours  or  so  from 
Eglosilyan  when  he  discovered  that  he  was  not  weighted  with  ter- 
rible woes  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  experienced  a  feeling  of  austere 
satisfaction  that  he  was  leaving  a  good  deal  of  trouble  behind  him. 
He  had  been  badly  used ;  he  had  been  righteously  angry.  It  was 
right  that  they  who  had  thus  used  him  badly  should  be  punished. 
As  for  him,  if  his  grief  did  not  trouble  him  much,  that  was  a 
happy  peculiarity  of  his  temperament  which  did  not  lessen  their 
offence  against  him. 

Most  certainly  he  was  not  weighted  with  woe.  lie  had  a  pleas- 
ant drive  in  the  morning  over  to  Launceston ;  he  smoked  a  cigar- 
ette or  two  in  the  train.  When  he  arrived  at  Plymouth,  he  or- 
dered a  very  nice  luncheon  at  the  nearest  hotel,  and  treated  him- 
self to  a  bottle  of  the  best  Burgundy  the  w'aiter  could  recommend 
him.  After  that  he  got  into  a  smoking-carriage  in  the  London 
express ;  he  lit  a  large  cigar ;  he  wrapped  a  thick  rug  around  his 
legs,  and  settled  himself  down  in  peace  for  the  long  journey. 
Now  was  an  excellent  time  to  find  out  exactly  how  his  affairs  stood. 

lie  was  indeed  very  comfortable.  Leaving  Eglosilyan  had  not 
troubled  him.  There  was  something  in  the  knowledge  that  he 
was  at  last  free  from  all  those  exciting  scenes  which  a  quiet 
middle-aged  man,  not  believing  in  romance,  found  trying  to  his 
nervous  system.  This  brief  holiday  in  Eglosilyan  had  been  any- 
thing but  a  pleasant  one ;  was  he  not,  on  the  Avhole,  glad  to  get 
away  ? 

Then  he  recollected  that  the  long-expected  meeting  with  his 
betrothed  had  not  been  so  full  of  delight  as  he  had  anticipated. 
Was  there  not  just  a  trace  of  disappointment  in  the  first  shock 
of  feeling  at  their  meeting?  She  was  certainly  not  a  handsome 
woman — such  a  one  as  he  might  have  preferred  to  introduce  to 
his  friends  about  Kensington,  in  the  event  of  his  going  back  to 
live  in  London. 

Then  he  thought  of  old  General  Weekcs.  He  felt  a  little 
ashamed  of  himself  for  not  having  had  the  courage  to  tell  the 
General  and  his  wife  that  he  meant  to  marry  one  of  the  young 
ladies  who  had  interested  them.  Would  it  not  be  awkward,  too, 
to  have  to  introduce  Wcnna  Roscwarne  to  them  in  her  new  ca- 
pacity ? 


NEW    AMBITIONS.  309 

That  speculation  carried  him  on  to  the  question  of  his  marriage. 
There  could  be  no  doubt  that  his  betrothed  had  become  a  little 
too  fond  of  the  handsomest  young  man  in  the  neighborhood. 
Perhaps  that  was  natural ;  but  at  all  events  she  was  now  very 
much  ashamed  of  what  had  happened,  and  he  might  trust  her  to 
avoid  Harry  Trelyon  in  the  future.  That  having  been  secured, 
would  not  her  thoughts  naturally  drift  back  to  the  man  to  whom 
she  had  plighted  a  troth  which  was  still  formally  binding  on  her  ? 
Time  was  on  his  side.  She  would  forget  that  young  man ;  she 
would  be  anxious,  as  soon  as  these  temporary  disturbances  of  her 
affections  were  over,  to  atone  for  the  past  by  her  conduct  in  the 
future.     Girls  had  very  strong  notions  about  duty. 

Well,  he  drove  to  his  club,  and  finding  one  of  the  bedrooms 
free,  he  engaged  it  for  a  week,  the  longest  time  possible.  He 
washed,  dressed,  and  went  down  to  dinner.  To  his  great  delight, 
the  first  man  he  saw  was  old  Sir  Percy  himself,  who  was  writing 
out  a  very  elaborate  menu,  considering  that  he  was  ordering  din- 
ner for  himself  only.  He  and  Mr.  Roscorla  agreed  to  dine  to- 
gether. 

Now  for  some  years  back  Mr.  Roscorla,  in  visiting  his  club, 
had  found  himself  in  a  very  isolated  and  uncomfortable  position. 
Long  ago  he  had  belonged  to  the  younger  set — to  those  reckless 
young  fellows  who  were  not  afraid  to  eat  a  hasty  dinner,  and  then 
rush  off  to  take  a  mother  and  a  couple  of  daughters  to  the  theatre, 
returning  at  midnight  to  some  anchovy  toast  and  a  glass  of  Bur- 
gundy, followed  by  a  couple  of  hours  of  brandy-and-soda,  cigars, 
and  billiards.  But  he  had  drifted  away  from  that  set ;  indeed, 
they  had  disappeared,  and  he  knew  none  of  their  successors.  On 
'the  other  hand,  he  had  never  got  into  the  ways  of  the  old-fogy 
set.  Those  stout  old  gentlemen,  who  carefully  drank  nothing  but 
claret-and-seltzer,  who  took  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  write  out  their 
dinner  bill,  who  spent  the  evening  in  playing  Avhist,  kept  very 
much  to  themselves.  It  was  into  this  set  that  the  old  General 
now  introduced  him.  Mr.  Roscorla  had  quite  the  air  of  a  bashful 
young  man  when  he  made  one  of  a  party  of  those  ancients,  who 
dined  at  the  same  table  each  evening.  He  was  almost  ashamed 
to  order  a  pint  of  champagne  for  himself — it  savored  so  much  of 
youth.  He  was  silent  in  the  presence  of  his  seniors ;  and  indeed 
they  were  garrulous  enough  to  cover  his  silence.  Their  talk  Avas 
mostly  of  poUtics — not  the  politics  of  the  country,  but  the  politics 


310  THREE    FEATHERS. 

of  office  —  of  under  -  secretaries  cand  candidates  for  place.  They 
seemed  to  look  on  the  Government  of  the  country  as  a  sort  of 
mechanical  clock,  which  from  time  to  time  sent  out  a  few  small 
figures,  and  from  time  to  time  took  them  in  again ;  and  they 
showed  an  astonishing  acquaintance  with  the  internal  and  intri- 
cate mechanism  which  produced  these  changes.  Perhaps  it  was 
because  they  were  so  busy  in  watching  for  changes  on  the  face  of 
the  clock  that  they  seemed  to  forget  the  swinging  onward  of  the 
great  world  outside,  and  the  solemn  march  of  the  stars. 

Most  of  those  old  gentlemen  had  lived  their  life — had  done 
their  share  of  heavy  dining  and  reckless  drinking  many  years  ago 
— and  thus  it  was  they  had  come  to  drink  seltzer-and-claret.  But 
it  appeared  that  it  was  their  custom,  after  dinner,  to  have  the  table- 
cover  removed,  and  some  port-wine  placed  on  the  mahogany.  Mr. 
Iloscorla,  who  had  felt  as  yet  no  ugly  sensations  about  his  finger- 
joints,  regarded  this  ceremony  with  equanimity ;  but  it  was  made 
the  subject  of  some  ominous  joking  on  the  part  of  his  companions. 
Then  joking  led  to  joking.  There  were  no  more  politics.  Some 
very  funny  stories  were  told.  Occasionally  one  or  two  names 
were  introduced,  as  of  persons  well  known  in  London  society, 
though  not  of  it ;  and  Mr.  Roscorla  Avas  surprised  that  he  had 
never  heard  these  names  before — you  see  how  one  becomes  igno- 
rant of  the  world  if  one  buries  one's  self  down  in  Cornwall.  Mr. 
Roscorla  began  to  take  quite  an  interest  in  these  celebrated  peo- 
ple, in  the  price  of  their  ponies,  and  the  diamonds  they  were  un- 
derstood to  have  worn  at  a  certain  very  singular  ball.  He  was 
pleased  to  hear,  too,  of  the  manner  in  which  the  aristocracy  of 
England  were  resuming  their  ancient  patronage  of  the  arts ;  for 
he  was  given  to  understand  that  a  young  earl  or  baron  could 
scarcely  be  considered  a  man  of  fashion  unless  he  owned  a 
theatre. 

On  their  way  up  to  the  card-room,  Mr.  Roscorla  and  one  of  his 
venerable  companions  went  into  the  hall  to  get  their  cigar-case 
from  their  top-coat  pocket.  This  elderly  gentleman  had  been  the 
governor  of  an  island  in  the  Pacific.  He  had  now  been  resident 
for  many  years  in  England.  He  was  on  the  directorate  of  one  or 
two  well-known  commercial  companies;  lie  had  spoken  at  several 
meetings  on  the  danger  of  dissociating  religion  from  education  in 
the  training  of  the  young;  in  short,  he  was  a  tower  of  respecta- 
bility.    On  the  present  occasion  he  had  to  pull  out  a  mufller  to 


NEW    AMBITIONS.  311 

get  at  his  cigar-case ;  and  with  the  muffler  came  a  small  parcel 
tied  up  in  tissue-paper. 

"Neat,  aren't  they?"  said  he,  with  a  senile  grin,  showing  Mr. 
Roscorla  the  tips  of  a  pair  of  pink  satin  slippers. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla ;  "  I  suppose  they're  for  your  daugh- 
ter?" 

They  went  up  to  the  card-room. 

"  I  expect  you'll  teach  us  a  lesson,  Roscorla,"  said  the  old  Gen- 
eral. "  Gad,  some  of  you  West  Indian  fellows  know  the  differ- 
ence between  a  tea  and  an  ace." 

"  Last  time  I  played  cards,"  Roscorla  said,  modestly,  "  I  was 
lucky  enough  to  win  forty-eight  pounds." 

"  Whew !  W^e  can't  afford  that  sort  of  thing  on  this  side  of 
the  water — not  if  you  happen  to  serve  Her  Majesty,  anyway. 
Come,  let's  cut  for  partners." 

There  was  but  little  talking,  of  course,  during  the  card-playing ; 
at  the  end  of  it  Mr.  Roscorla  found  he  had  only  lost  half  a  sover- 
eign. Then  everybody  adjourned  to  a  snug  little  smoking-room, 
to  which  onl}'^  members  were  admitted.  This,  to  the  neophyte, 
was  the  pleasantest  part  of  the  evening.  He  seemed  to  hear  of 
everything  that  Avas  going  on  in  London — and  a  good  deal  more 
besides.  He  was  behind  the  scenes  of  all  the  commercial,  social, 
political  performances  which  were  causing  the  vulgar  crowd  to 
gape.  He  discovered  the  true  history  of  the  hostility  shown  by 
So-and-so  to  the  Premier;  he  was  told  the  little  scandal  which 
caused  Her  Majesty  to  refuse  to  knight  a  certain  gentleman  who 
had  claims  on  the  Government ;  he  heard  what  the  Duke  really 
did  offer  to  the  gamekeeper  whose  eye  he  had  shot  out,  and  the 
language  used  by  the  keeper  on  the  occasion ;  and  he  received 
such  information  about  the  financial  affairs  of  many  a  company 
as  made  him  wonder  whether  the  final  collapse  of  the  commercial 
world  were  really  at  hand.  He  forgot  that  he  had  heard  quite 
similar  stories  twenty  years  before.  Then  they  had  been  told  by 
ingenuous  youths  full  of  the  importance  of  the  information  they 
had  just  acquired;  now  they  were  told  by  garrulous  old  gentle- 
men, with  a  cynical  laugh  which  was  more  amusing  than  the  hot- 
headed asseveration  of  the  juniors.  It  was,  on  the  whole,  a  de- 
lightful evening — this  first  evening  of  his  return  to  club-life ;  and 
then  it  was  so  convenient  to  go  up-stairs  to  bed  instead  of  having 
to  walk  from  the  inn  of  Eglosilyan  to  Basset  Cottage. 


312  THREE    FEATHERS. 

Just  before  leaving,  the  old  General  took  Roscorla  aside,  and 
said  to  him — 

"  Monstrous  amusing  fellows,  eh  V 

"  Very." 

"Just  a  -word.  Don't  you  let  old  Lewis  lug  you  into  any  of 
his  companies — you  understand  ?" 

"  There's  not  much  fear  of  that !"  Mr.  Roscorla  said,  with  a 
laugh.     "  I  haven't  a  brass  farthing  to  invest." 

"  All  you  West-Indians  say  that ;  however,  so  much  the  better. 
And  there's  old  Strafford,  too  ;  he's  got  some  infernal  India-rubber 
patent.  Gad,  sir,  he  knows  no  more  about  these  commercial  fel- 
lows than  the  man  in  the  moon ;  and  they'll  ruin  him — mark  my 
words,  they'll  ruin  him." 

Roscorla  was  quite  pleased  to  be  advised.  It  made  him  feel 
young  and  ingenuous.  After  all,  the  disparity  in  years  between 
him  and  his  late  companions  was  most  obvious. 

"  And  when  are  you  coming  to  dine  with  us,  eh  ?"  the  General 
said,  lighting  a  last  cigar  and  getting  his  hat.  To-morrow  night  ? 
— quiet  family  party,  you  know ;  her  ladyship'll  be  awfully  glad 
to  see  you.  Is  it  a  bargain  ?  All  right — seven  ;  we're  early  folks. 
I  say — you  needn't  mention  I  dined  here  to-night;  to  tell  you 
the  truth,  I'm  supposed  to  be  looking  after  a  company  too,  and 
precious  busy  about  it.     Mum's  the  word ;  d'ye  see  ?" 

Really  this  plunge  into  a  new  sort  of  life  was  quite  delightful. 
AVlien  he  went  down  to  breakfast  next  morning  he  was  charmed 
with  the  order  and  cleanliness  of  everything  around  him ;  the 
sunlight  was  shining  in  at  the  large  windows ;  there  was  a  bright 
fire,  in  front  of  which  he  stood  and  read  the  paper  until  his  cut- 
lets came.  There  was  no  croaking  of  an  old  Cornish  housekeeper 
over  her  bills ;  no  necessity  for  seeing  if  the  grocer  had  been  cor- 
rect in  his  addition.  Then  there  was  a  slight  difference  between 
the  cooking  here  and  that  which  prevailed  in  Basset  Cottage. 

In  a  comfortable  frame  of  mind  he  leisurely  walked  down  to 
Cannon  Street,  and  announced  himself  to  his  partners.  He  sat 
for  an  hour  or  so  in  a  snug  little  parlor,  talking  over  their  joint 
venture,  and  describing  all  that  had  been  done.  There  was,  in- 
deed, every  ground  for  hope  ;  and  he  was  pleased  to  hear  them 
say  that  they  Avere  especially  obliged  to  him  for  having  gone  out 
to  verify  the  reports  that  had  been  sent  home,  and  for  his  per- 
sonal supervision  while  there.     They  hoped  he  would  draw  on  the 


NEW    AMBITIONS.  313 

joint  association  for  a  certain  sum  which  should  represent  the 
value  of  that  supervision. 

Now,  if  Mr.  Roscorla  had  really  been  possessed  at  this  moment 
of  the  wealth  to  which  he  looked  forward,  he  would  not  have  taken 
so  much  interest  in  it.     lie  would  have  said  to  himself — 

"  What  is  the  life  I  am  to  lead,  now  that  I  have  this  money  ? 
Having  luncheon  at  the  club;  walking  in  the  Park  in  the  after- 
noon ;  dining  with  a  friend  in  the  evening,  and  playing  whist  or 
billiards,  with  the  cheerless  return  to  a  bachelor's  chambers  at 
night  ?     Is  that  all  that  my  money  can  give  me  ?" 

But  he  had  not  the  money.  He  looked  forward  to  it ;  and  it 
seemed  to  him  that  it  contained  all  the  possibilities  of  happiness. 
Then  he  would  be  free.  No  more  stationary  dragging  out  of  ex- 
istence in  that  Cornish  cottage.  He  would  move  about ;  he  would 
enjoy  life.  He  was  still  younger  than  those  jovial  old  fellows 
who  seemed  to  be  happy  enough.  When  he  thought  of  Wenna 
Rosewarne,  it  was  with  the  notion  that  marriage  very  considerably 
hampers  a  man's  freedom  of  action. 

If  a  man  were  married,  could  he  have  a  choice  of  thirty  dishes 
for  luncheon  ?  Could  he  have  the  first  edition  of  the  evening 
papers  brought  him  almost  damp  from  the  press  ?  Then  how 
pleasant  it  was  to  be  able  to  smoke  a  cigar  and  to  write  one  or 
two  letters  at  the  same  time — in  a  large  and  well-ventilated  room. 
Mr.  Roscorla  did  not  fail  to  draw  on  his  partners  for  the  sum  they 
had  mentioned ;  he  was  not  short  of  money,  but  he  might  as  well 
gather  the  first  few  drops  of  the  coming  shower. 

He  did  not  go  up  to  walk  in  the  Park,  for  he  knew  there  would 
be  almost  nobody  there  at  that  time  of  the  year ;  but  he  walked 
up  to  Bond  Street  and  bought  a  pair  of  dress-boots,  after  which 
he  returned  to  the  club,  and  played  billiards  with  one  of  his  com- 
panions of  the  previous  evening  until  it  was  time  to  dress  for 
dinner. 

The  party  at  the 'General's  was  a  sufliciently  small  one ;  for  you 
cannot  ask  any  one  to  dinner  at  a  few  hours'  notice,  except  it  be 
a  merry  and  marriageable  widow  who  has  been  told  that  she  will 
meet  an  elderly  and  marriageable  bachelor.  This  complaisant 
lady  was  present ;  and  Mr.  Roscorla  found  himself  on  his  entrance 
being  introduced  to  a  good-looking,  buxom  dame,  who  had  a 
healthy,  merry,  roseate  face,  very  black  eyes  and  hair,  and  a  some- 
what gorgeous  dress.     tShe  was  a  trifle  demure  at  first,  but  her 

O 


314  TUREE    FEATHERS. 

amiable  shyness  soon  wore  oflE,  and  she  was  most  kind  to  Mr.  Ros- 
corla.  lie,  of  course,  had  to  take  in  Lady  Weckes ;  but  Mrs. 
Seton-"\Yilloughby  sat  opposite  him,  and,  while  keeping  the  whole 
table  amused  Avith  an  account  of  her  adventures  in  Galway,  ap- 
peared to  address  the  narrative  principally  to  the  stranger. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  Lady  Weekes,"  she  said,  "  I  was  so  glad  to  get 
back  to  Brighton !  I  thought  I  should  have  forgotten  my  own 
language,  and  taken  to  war-paint  and  feathers,  if  I  had  remained 
much  longer.  And  Brighton  is  so  delightful  just  now — just  com- 
fortably filled,  without  the  November  crush  having  set  in.  Now, 
couldn't  you  persuade  the  General  to  take  you  down  for  a  few 
days?  I  am  going  down  on  Friday  ;  and  you  know  how  dread- 
ful it  is  for  a  poor  lone  w^oman  to  be  in  a  hotel,  especially  with 
a  maid  who  spends  all  her  time  in  flirting  with  the  first-floor 

waiters.     Now,  won't  you,  dear  ?     I  assure  you  the Hotel 

is  most  charming — such  freedom,  and  the  pleasant  parties  they 
make  up  in  the  drawing-room  ;  I  believe  they  have  a  ball  two  or 
three  nights  a  week  just  now — " 

"  I  should  have  thought  you  would  have  found  the rather 

quieter,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  naming  a  good  old-fashioned  house. 

"  Rather  quieter  V  said  the  widow,  raising  her  eyebrows.  "  Yes, 
a  good  deal  quieter !  About  as  quiet  as  a  Dissenting  chapel.  No, 
no ;  if  one  means  to  have  a  little  pleasure,  why  go  to  such  a  place 
as  that  ?  Now,  will  you  come  and  prove  the  truth  of  what  I  have 
told  you  ?" 

Mr.  Roscorla  looked  alarmed ;  and  even  the  solemn  Lady 
Weekes  had  to  conceal  a  smile. 

"  Of  course  I  mean  you  to  persuade  our  friends  here  to  come 
too,"  the  widow  explained,  "  What  a  delightful  frolic  it  would 
be — for  a  few  days,  you  know,  to  break  away  from  London ! 
Now,  my  dear,  what  do  you  say  ?" 

She  turned  to  her  hostess.  That  small  and  sombre  person  re- 
ferred her  to  the  General.  The  General,  on-  being  appealed  to, 
said  he  thought  it  would  be  a  capital  joke ;  and  would  Mr.  Ros- 
corla go  with  them  ?  Mr,  Roscorla,  not  seeing  why  he  should  not 
have  a  little  frolic  of  this  sort  just  like  any  one  else,  said  he  would. 
So  they  agreed  to  meet  at  Victoria  Station  on  the  following  Fri- 
day, 

"  Struck,  ch  ?"  said  the  old  General,  when  the  two  gentlemen 
were  alone  after  dinner.     "Has  she  wounded  vou,  eh  ?     Gad,  sir. 


NEW    AMBITIONS.  315 

that  woman  has  £8000  a  year  in  the  India  Four  per  Cents. 
Would  you  believe  it?  Would  you  believe  that  any  man  could 
have  been  such  a  fool  as  to  put  such  a  fortune  into  India  Four  per 
Cents  ? — with  mortgages  going  a-begging  at  five,  and  the  marine 
insurance  companies  paying  thirteen !  Well,  my  boy,  what  do 
you  think  of  her?  She  was  most  uncommonly  attentive  to  you, 
that  I'll  swear — don't  deny  it — now,  don't  deny  it.  Bless  my 
soul,  you  marrying  men  arc  so  sly  there's  no  getting  at  -you. 
.Well,  what  was  I  saying?  Yes,  yes — will  she  do?  £8000  a 
year,  as  I'm  a  living  sinner." 

Mr.  Roscorla  was  intensely  flattered  to  have  it  even  supposed 
that  the  refusal  of  such  a  fortune  was  within  his  power. 

"  Well,"  said  he,  modestly  and  yet  critically,  "  she's  not  quite 
my  style.  I'm  rather  afraid  of  three-deckers.  But  she  seems  a 
very  good-natured  sort  of  woman." 

"  Good-natured  !  Is  that  all  you  say  ?  I  can  tell  you,  in  my 
time  men  were  nothing  so  particular  Avhen  there  was  £8000  a 
year  going  a-begging." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  with  a  smile.  "  It  is  a  very 
good  joke.  When  she  marries,  she'll  marry  a  younger  man  than 
I  am — " 

"  Don't  you  be  mistaken — don't  you  be  mistaken !"  the  old 
General  cried.  "You've  made  an  impression — I'll  swear  you 
have  ;  and  I  told  her  ladyship  you  would." 

"  And  what  did  Lady  Weekes  say  ?" 

"  Gad,  sir,  she  said  it  would  be  a  deuced  good  thing  for  both 
of  you." 

"  She  is  very  kind,"  said  Mr.  Roscorla,  pleased  at  the  notion 
of  having  such  a  prize  within  reach,  and  yet  not  pleased  that  Lady 
Weekes  should  have  fancied  this  the  sort  of  woman  he  would 
care  to  marry. 

They  went  to  Brighton,  and  a  very  pleasant  time  of  it  they  had 
at  the  big,  noisy  hotel.  The  weather  was  delightful.  Mrs.  Seton- 
Willoughby  was  excessively  fond  of  riding;  forenoon  and  after- 
noon they  had  their  excursions,  with  the  pleasant  little  dinner  of 
the  evening  to  follow.  Was  not  tliis  a  charmed  land  into  which 
the  former  hermit  of  Basset  Cottage  was  straying  ?  Of  course,  ho 
never  dreamed  for  a  moment  of  marrying  this  widow ;  that  was 
out  of  the  question.  She  was  just  a  little  too  demonstrative — 
very  clever  and  amusing  for  half  an  hour  or  so,  but  too  gigantic 


316  THREE    FEATHERS. 

a  blessing  to  be  taken  through  life.  It  was  the  mere  possibility 
of  marrying  her,  however,  which  attracted  Mr.  Roscorla.  He  hon- 
estly believed,  judging  by  her  kindness  to  him,  that,  if  he  serious- 
ly tried,  he  could  get  her  to  marry  him  ;  in  other  words,  that  he 
might  become  possessed  of  £8000  a  year.  This  money,  so  to 
speak,  was  within  his  reach ;  and  it  was  only  now  that  he  was  be- 
ginning to  see  that  money  could  purchase  many  pleasures  even 
for  the  middle-aged.  He  made  a  great  mistake  in  imagining, 
down  in  Cornwall,  that  he  had  lived  his  life ;  and  that  he  had  but 
to  look  forward  to  mild  enjoyments,  a  peaceful  Avandering  on- 
wards to  the  grave,  and  the  continual  study  of  economy  in  do- 
mestic affairs.     He  was  only  now  beginning  to  live. 

"And  when  are  you  coming  back?"  said  the  widow  to  him, 
one  evening,  when  they  were  all  talking  of  his  leaving  England. 

"  That  f  don't  know,"  he  said. 

"  Of  course,"  she  said,  "  you  don't  mean  to  remain  in  the  West 
Indies.  I  suppose  lots  of  people  have  to  go  there  for  some  ob- 
ject or  other,  but  they  always  come  back  when  it  is  attained." 

"  They  come  back  to  attain  some  other  object  here,"  said  Mr. 
Koscorla. 

"  Then  we'll  soon  find  you  that,"  the  General  burst  in.  "  No 
man  lives  out  of  England  who  can  help  it.  Don't  you  find  in 
this  country  enough  to  satisfy  you  ?" 

"  Indeed  I  do,"  Mr.  Roscorla  said,  "  especially  within  the  last 
few  days.  I  have  enjoyed  myself  enormously.  I  shall  always 
have  a  friendly  recollection  of  Brighton." 

"  Are  you  going  down  to  Cornwall  before  you  leave  ?  Sir  Per- 
cy asked. 

"  No,"  said  he,  slowly. 

"  That  isn't  quite  so  cheerful  as  Brighton,  eh  ?" 

"  Not  quite." 

He  kept  his  word.  He  did  not  go  back  to  Cornwall  before 
leaving  England,  nor  did  he  send  a  single  line  or  message  to  any 
one  there.  It  was  with  something  of  a  proud  indifference  that  he 
set  sail,  and  also  with  some  notion  that  he  was  being  amply  re- 
venged. For  the  rest,  he  hated  "  scenes ;"  and  he  had  encounter- 
ed quite  enough  of  these  during  his  brief  visit  to  Eglosilyan. 


AN  OLD  lady's  APOLOGV.  SlV 


CHAPTER  XL. 

AN     OLD     lady's     APOLOGY. 

When  Wenna  heard  that  Mr.  Roscorla  had  left  England  with- 
out even  bidding  her  good-bye  by  letter,  she  accepted  the  rebuke 
with  submission,  and  kept  her  own  counsel.  She  went  about  her 
daily  duties  with  an  unceasing  industry ;  Mrs.  Trelyon  was  aston- 
ished to  see  how  she  seemed  to  find  time  for  everything.  The 
winter  was  coming  on,  and  the  Sewing  Club  was  in  full  activity ; 
but  even  apart  from  the  affairs  of  that  enterprise,  Wenna  Rose- 
warne  seeiBed  to  be  everywhere  throughout  the  village,  to  know 
everything,  to  be  doing  everything  that  prudent  help  and  friendly 
counsel  could  do.  Mrs.  Trelyon  grew  to  love  the  girl — in  her 
vague,  wondering,  simple  fashion. 

So  the  days  and  the  weeks  and  the  months  went  by ;  and  the 
course  of  life  ran  smoothly  and  quietly  in  the  remote  Cornish  vil- 
lage. Apparently  there  was  nothing  to  indicate  the  presence  of 
bitter  regrets,  of  crushed  hopes,  of  patient  despair ;  only  Mabyn 
used  to  watch  her  sister  at  times,  and  she  fancied  that  Wenna's 
face  was  growing  thinner. 

The  Christmas  festivities  came  on,  and  Mrs.  Trelyon  was  pleased 
to  lend  her  inolegee  a  helping  hand  in  decorating  the  church. 
One  evening  she  said — 

"  My  dear  Miss  Wenna,  I  am  going  to  ask  you  an  impertinent 
question.  Could  your  family  spare  you  on  Christmas  evening? 
Harry  is  coming  down  from  London  ;  I  am  sure  he  would  be  so 
pleased  to  see  you." 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  Mrs.  Trelyon,"  Wenna  said,  with  just  a  little 
nervousness.  "  You  are  very  kind,  but  indeed  I  must  be  at  home 
on  Christmas  evening." 

"  Perhaps  some  other  evening  while  he  is  here  you  will  be  able 
to  come  up,"  said  Mrs.  Trelyon,  in  her  gentle  way.  "  You  know 
you  ought  to  come  and  see  how  your  pupil  is  getting  on.  He 
Avrites  me  such  nice  letters  now  ;  and  I  fancy  he  is  working  very 
bard  at  his  studies,  though  he  says  nothing  about  it." 


318  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  Lear  it,"  Wenna  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

Trelyon  did  coine  to  the  Hall  for  a  few  days,  but  he  kept  away 
from  the  village,  and  was  seen  by  no  one  of  the  Rosewarnes. 
But  on  the  Christmas  morning  Mabyn  Rosewarne,  being  early 
about,  was  told  that  Mrs.  Trelyon's  groom  wished  to  see  her ;  and 
going  down,  she  found  the  man,  with  a  basket  before  him. 

"  Please,  miss,  Mr,  Trelyon's  compliments,  and  would  you  take 
the  flowers  out  of  the  cotton  wool,  and  give  them  to  Miss  Rose- 
warne ?" 

"  Oh,  won't  I !"  said  Mabyn,  opening  the  basket  at  once,  and 
carefully  getting  out  a  bouquet  of  camellias,  snowdrops,  and  sweet 
violets.  "Just  you  wait  a  minute,  Jakes,  for  I've  got  a  Christ- 
mas-box for  you." 

Mabyn  went  up-stairs  as  rapidly  as  was  consistent  with  the 
safety  of  the  flowers,  and  burst  into  her  sister's  room. 

"  Oh,  Wenna,  look  at  this  !  Do  you  know  who  sent  them  ? 
Did  you  ever  see  anything  so  lovely?" 

For  a  second  the  girl  seemed  almost  frightened  ;  then  her  eyes 
grew  troubled  and  moist,  and  she  turned  her  head  away.  Mabyn 
put  them  gently  down,  and  left  the  room  without  a  word. 

The  Christmas  and  the  new  year  passed  without  any  message 
from  Mr.  Roscorla ;  and  Mabyn,  though  she  rebelled  against  the 
bondage  in  which  her  sister  was  placed,  was  glad  that  she  was 
not  disturbed  by  angry  letters.  About  the  middle  o2  January, 
however,  a  brief  note  arrived  from  Jamaica. 

"  I  cannot  let  such  a  time  go  by,"  Mr,  Roscorla  wrote,  "  what- 
ever may  be  our  relations,  without  sending  you  a  friendly  word, 
I  do  hope  the  new  year  will  bring  you  health  and  happiness,  and 
that  we  shall  in  time  forget  the  angry  manner  in  which  we  parted, 
and  all  the  circumstances  leading  to  it," 

She  wrote  as  brief  a  note  in  reply,  at  the  end  of  which  she 
hoped  he  would  forgive  her  for  any  pain  he  had  suffered  through 
her.  Mabyn  was  rejoiced  to  find  that  the  correspondence — wheth- 
er it  Avas  or  was  not  meant  on  his  part  to  be  an  offer  of  recon- 
ciliation— stopped  there. 

And  again  the  slow  days  went  by,  until  the  world  began  to  stir 
with  the  new  spring-time — the  saddest  time  of  the  year  to  those 
who  live  much  in  the  past.  Wenna  was  out  and  about  a  great 
deal,  being  continually  busy ;  but  she  no  longer  took  those  long 
walks  by  herself  in  which  she  used  to  chat  to  the  butterflies  and 


AN  OLD  lady's  APOLOGY.  319 

the  young  lambs  and  tlic  sea-gulls.  The  fresh  -western  breezes  no 
longer  caused  her  spirits  to  flow  over  in  careless  gayety ;  she  saw 
the  new  flowers  springing  out  of  the  earth,  but  it  was  of  another 
spring-time  she  was  thinking. 

One  day,  later  on  in  the  year,  Mrs.  Trelyon  sent  down  the  wag- 
onette for  her,  -with  the  request  that  she  would  come  up  to  the 
Ilall  for  a  few  minutes.  Wenna  obeyed  the  summons,  imagining 
that  some  business  connected  with  the  Sewing  Club  claimed  her 
attention.  When  she  arrived,  she  found  Mrs.  Trelyon  unable  to 
express  the  gladness  and  gratitude  that  filled  her  heart ;  for  be- 
fore her  were  certain  London  newspapers,  and  behold !  Harry 
Trelyon's  name  was  recorded  there  in  certain  lists  as  having  scored 
a  suflicient  number  of  marks  in  the  examination  to  entitle  him  to 
a  first  commission.  It  was  no  concern  of  hers  that  his  name  was 
pretty  far  down  in  the  list — enough  that  he  had  succeeded  some- 
how. And  who  was  the  worker  of  this  miracle — who  but  the 
shy,  sad-eyed  girl  standing  beside  her,  whose  face  wore  now  a 
happier  expression  than  it  had  worn  for  many  a  day  ? 

"  And  this  is  what  he  says,"  the  proud  mother  continued,  show- 
ing Wenna  a  letter.  "  '  It  isn't  much  to  boast  of,  for  indeed 
you'll  see  by  the  numbers  that  it  was  rather  a  narrow  squeak ; 
anyhow,  I  pulled  through.  My  old  tutor  is  rather  a  speculative 
fellow,  and  he  offered  to  bet  me  fifty  pounds  his  coaching  would 
carry  me  through,  which  I  took :  so  I  shall  have  to  pay  him  that 
besides  his  fees.  I  must  say  he  has  earned  both ;  I  don't  think 
a  more  ignorant  person  than  myself  ever  went  to  a  man  to  get 
crammed.  I  send  you  two  ncAvspapers ;  you  might  drop  one  at 
the  inn  for  Miss  Rosewarne  any  time  you  are  passing ;  or  if  you 
could  see  her  and  tell  her,  perhaps  that  would  be  better.'  " 

Wenna  was  about  as  pleased  and  proud  as  Mrs.  Trelyon  was. 

"  I  knew  he  could  do  it,  if  he  tried,"  she  said,  quietly. 

"And  then,"  the  mother  went  on  to  say,  "when  he  has  once 
joined,  there  will  be  no  money  Avanting  to  help  him  to  his  pro- 
motion ;  and  when  he  comes  back  to  settle  down  here,  he  will 
have  some  recognized  rank  and  profession  such  as  a  man  ought 
to  have.  Not  that  he  will  remain  in  the  army — for,  of  course,  I 
should  not  like  to  part  with  him  ;  and  he  might  be  sent  to  Africa, 
or  Canada,  or  the  West  Indies.  You  know,"  she  added  with  a 
smile,  "  tliat  it  is  not  pleasant  to  have  any  one  you  care  for  in  the 
West  Indies." 


320  THREE    FEATUERS. 

"When  "Wenna  got  Lome  again,  slie  told  Mabyn.  Strange  to 
say,  Mabyn  did  not  clap  lier  bands  for  joy,  as  might  have  been 
expected. 

"  Wenna,"  said  she,  "  what  made  him  go  into  the  army  ?  Was 
it  to  show  you  that  he  could  pass  an  examination  ?  or  was  it  be- 
cause he  means  to  leave  England  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Wenna,  looking  down.  "  I  hope  he  docs 
not  mean  to  leave  England."     That  was  all  she  said. 

Ilarry  Trelyon  was,  however,  about  to  leave  England,  though 
not  because  he  had  been  gazetted  to  a  colonial  regiment.  He 
came  down  to  inform  his  mother  that,  on  the  fifteenth  of  the 
month,  he  would  sail  for  Jamaica ;  and  then  and  there,  for  the 
first  time,  he  told  her  the  whole  story  of  his  love  for  Wenna 
Rosew^arne,  of  his  determination  to  free  her  somehow  from  the 
bonds  that  bound  her,  and,  failing  that,  of  the  revenge  he  meant 
to  take.    Mrs.  Trelyon  was  amazed,  angry,  and  beseeching  in  turns. 

At  one  moment  she  protested  that  it  was  madness  of  her  son 
to  think  of  marrying  Wenna  Rosewarne ;  at  another,  she  would 
admit  all  that  he  said  in  praise  of  her,  and  would  only  implore  him 
not  to  leave  England ;  or  again  she  would  hint  that  she  would 
almost  herself  go  down  to  Wenna  and  beg  her  to  marry  him  if 
only  he  gave  up  this  wild  intention  of  his.  lie  had  never  seen 
his  mother  so  agitated ;  but  he  reasoned  gently  with  her,  and  re- 
mained firm  to  his  purpose.  Was  there  half  as  much  danger  in 
taking  a  fortnight's  trip  in  a  mail-steamer  as  in  going  from  South- 
ampton to  Malta  in  a  yacht,  which  he  had  twice  done  with  her 
consent  ? 

"  Why,  if  I  had  been  ordered  to  join  a  regiment  in  China,  you 
might  have  some  reason  to  complain,"  he  said.  "  And  I  shall  be 
as  anxious  as  you,  mother,  to  get  back  again,  for  I  mean  to  get 
up  my  drill  thoroughly  as  soon  as  I  am  attached.  I  have  plenty 
of  work  before  me." 

"  You're  not  looking  well,  Harry,"  said  the  mother. 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  he,  cheerfully.  "  You  don't  catch  one 
of  those  geese  at  Strasburg  looking  specially  lively  when  they  tie 
it  by  the  leg  and  cram  it  —  and  that's  what  I've  been  going 
through  of  late.  But  what  better  cure  can  there  be  than  a  sea- 
voyage  ?" 

And  so  it  came  about  that,  on  a  pleasant  evening  in  October, 


AN  OLD  lady's  APOLOGY.  321 

Mr.  Roscorla  received  a  visit.  ITc  saw  the  young  man  come  rid- 
ing up  the  acacia  path,  and  he  instantaneously  guessed  his  mis- 
sion.    His  own  resolve  was  taken  as  quickly. 

"  Bless  my  soul,  is  it  you,  Trelyon  ?"  he  cried,  with  apparent 
delight.  "  You  mayn't  believe  it,  but  I  am  really  glad  to  see  you. 
I  have  been  going  to  write  to  you  for  many  a  day  back.  I'll  send 
somebody  for  your  horse ;  come  into  the  house." 

The  young  man,  having  fastened  up  the  bridle,  followed  his 
host.  There  was  a  calm  and  business-like  rather  than  a  holiday 
look  on  his  face. 

"And  what  were  you  going  to  write  to  me  about?"  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  you  know,"  said  Roscorla,  good-naturedly.  "  You  see, 
a  man  takes  very  different  views  of  life  when  he  knocks  about  a 
bit.  For  my  part,  I  am  more  interested  in  my  business  now  than 
in  anything  else  of  a  more  tender  character ;  and  I  may  say  that 
I  hope  to  pay  you  back  a  part  of  the  money  you  lent  me  as  soon 
as  our  accounts  for  this  year  are  made  up.  Well,  about  that 
other  point — I  don't  see  how  I  could  well  return  to  England,  to 
live  permanently  there,  for  a  year  or  two  at  the  soonest ;  and — 
and,  in  fact — I  have  often  wondered,  now,  whether  it  wouldn't  be 
better  if  I  asked  Miss  Rosewarne  to  consider  herself  finally  free 
from  that — from  that  engagement — " 

"  Yes,  I  think  it  would  be  a  great  deal  better,"  said  Trelyon, 
coldly.  "And  perhaps  you  w^ould  kindly  put  your  resolve  into 
writing.  I  shall  take  it  back  to  Miss  Rosewarne.  Will  you  kind- 
ly do  so  now  ?" 

"  Wliy !"  said  Roscorla,  rather  sharply,  "  you  don't  take  my 
proposal  in  a  very  friendly  way.  I  imagine  I  am  doing  you  a 
good  turn  too.  It  is  not  every  man  would  do  so  in  my  position ; 
for,  after  all,  she  treated  me  very  badly.  However,  we  needn't 
go  into  that.  I  will  write  her  a  letter  if  you  like — now,  indeed, 
if  you  like ;  and  won't  you  stop  a  day  or  two  here  before  going 
back  to  Kingston  ?" 

Mr.  Trelyon  intimated  that  he  would  like  to  have  the  letter  at 
once,  and  that  he  would  consider  the  invitation  afterwards.  Ros- 
corla, with  a  good-humored  shrug,  sat  down  and  wrote  it,  and 
then  handed  it  to  Trelyon,  open.  As  he  did  so,  he  noticed  that 
the  young  man  was  coolly  abstracting  the  cartridge  from  a  small 
breech-loading  pistol  he  held  in  his  hand.  He  put  the  cartridge 
in  his  waistcoat-pocket  and  the  pistol  in  his  coat-pocket. 

02 


322  THREE    FEATHERS. 

"Did  you  think  we  were  savages  out  here,  that  you  came 
armed  ?"  said  Roscorla,  rather  pale,  but  smiling. 
"  I  didn't  know,"  said  Trelyon. 

One  morning  there  was  a  marriage  in  Eglosilyan,  up  there  at 
the  small  church  on  the  bleak  downs,  overlooking  the  wide  sea. 
The  spring-time  had  come  round  again ;  there  was  a  May-like 
mildness  in  the  air ;  the  skies  overhead  were  as  blue  as  the  great 
plain  of  the  sea ;  and  all  the  beautiful  green  world  was  throbbing 
with  the  upspringing  life  of  the  flowers.  It  was  just  like  any 
other  wedding,  but  for  one  little  incident.  When  the  bride  came 
out  into  the  bewildering  glare  of  the  sun,  she  vaguely  knew  that 
the  path  through  the  churchyard  was  lined  on  both  sides  with 
children.  Now  she  was  rather  well  known  to  the  children  about, 
and  they  had  come  in  a  great  number ;  and  when  she  passed  down 
between  them,  it  appeared  that  the  little  folks  had  brought  vast 
heaps  of  primroses  and  violets  in  their  aprons  and  in  tiny  baskets, 
and  they  strewed  her  path  with  these  flowers  of  the  new  spring. 
Well,  she  burst  into  tears  at  this ;  and  hastily  leaving  her  hus- 
band's arm  for  a  moment,  she  caught  up  one  of  the  least  of  the 
children — a  small,  golden-haired  girl  of  four — and  kissed  her. 
Then  she  turned  to  her  husband  again,  and  was  glad  that  he  led 
her  down  to  the  gate,  for  her  eyes  were  so  blinded  with  tears  that 
she  could  not  see  her  way. 

Nor  did  anything  very  remarkable  occur  at  the  wedding-break- 
fast. But  there  was  a  gan-ulous  old  lady  there,  with  bright,  pink 
cheeks  and  silvery  hair ;  and  she  did  not  cease  to  prattle  to  the 
clergyman  who  had  ofliciated  in  the  church,  and  who  was  seated 
next  her. 

"  Indeed,  Mr.  Trewhella,"  she  said  confidentially,  "  I  always  said 
this  is  what  would  come  of  it.  Never  any  one  of  those  Trelyons 
set  his  heart  on  a  girl  but  he  got  her ;  and  what  was  the  use  of 
friends  or  relatives  fighting  against  it  ?  Nay,  I  don't  think  there's 
any  cause  of  complaint — not  I !  She's  a  modest,  nice,  lady-like 
girl — she  is  indeed — although  she  isn't  so  handsome  as  her  sister. 
Dear,  dear  me,  look  at  that  girl  now !  Won't  she  be  a  prize  for 
some  man  !  I  declare  I  haven't  seen  so  handsome  a  girl  for  many 
a  day.  And  as  I  tell  you,  Mr.  Trewhella,  it's  no  use  trying  to  pre- 
vent it ;  if  one  of  the  Trelyons  falls  in  love  with  a  girl,  the  girl's 
done  for — she  may  as  avcU  give  in — " 


AX    OLD    LADY  S    APOLOGY.  323 

"  If  I  may  say  so,"  observed  the  old  clergyman,  with  a  sly  gal- 
lantry, "  you  do  not  give  the  gentlemen  of  your  family  credit  for 
the  most  remarkable  feature  of  their  marriage  connections.  They 
seem  to  have  always  had  a  very  good  idea  of  making  an  excellent 
choice." 

The  old  lady  was  vastly  pleased. 

"Ah,  well,"  she  said,  with  a  shrewd  smile,  "there  were  two  or 
three  who  thought  George  Trelyon — that  was  this  young  man's 
grandfather,  you  know — lucky  enough,  if  one  might  judge  by  the 
noise  they  made.  Dear,  dear,  what  a  to-do  there  was  when  we 
ran  away !  Why,  don't  you  know,  Mr.  Trewhella,  that  I  ran 
away  from  a  ball  with  him — and  drove  to  Gretna  Gi'een  with  my 
ball-dress  on,  as  I'm  a  living  woman  !  Such  a  ride  it  was ! — why, 
when  we  got  up  to  Carlisle — " 

But  that  story  has  been  told  before. 


THE    END. 


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of  Rome. — Leo  and  Luther. — Loyola  and  the  Jesuits. — Ecumenical 
Councils. — The  Vaudois. — The  Huguenots. — The  Church  of  Jerusalem. 
— Dominic  and  the  Inquisition. — The  Conquest  of  Ireland. — The  Greek 
Church.     8vo,  Cloth,  uncut  edges  and  gilt  tops,  $3  00. 

MYERS'S  REMAINS  OF  LOST  EMPIRES.  Remains  of  Lost  Em- 
pires :  Sketches  of  the  Ruins  of  Palmyra,  Nineveh,  Babylon,  and  Per- 
sepolis,  with  some  Notes  on  India  and  the  Cashmerian  Himalayas.  By 
P.  V.  N,  Myers,     Illustrated.     Svo,  Cloth,  $3  50. 


I 


Valuable  and  Interesting  Works  for  Public  and  Private  Libraries.     3 

LOSSING'S  FIELD-BOOK  OF  THE  EEVOLUTION.  Pictorial 
Field-Book  of  the  lievolution :  or,  Illustrations  by  Pen  and  Pencil  of 
the  History,  Biography,  Scenery,  Relics,  and  Traditions  of  the  War  for 
Independence.  By  Benson  J.  Lossing.  2  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  $14  00; 
Sheep  or  Roan,  $15  00;  Half  Calf,  $18  00. 

LOSSING'S  FIELD-BOOK  OF  THE  WAR  OF  1812.  Pictorial 
Field-Book  of  the  War  of  1812  :  or,  Illustrations  by  Pen  and  Pencil  of 
the  History,  Biography,  Scenery,  Relics,  and  Traditions  of  the  last  War 
for  American  Independence.  By  Benson  J.  Lossing.  With  several 
hundred  Engravings  on  Wood  by  Lossing  and  Barritt,  chiefly  from 
Original  Sketches  by  the  Author.  1088  pages,  8vo,  Cloth,  $7  00 ; 
Sheep  or  Roan,  $8  50 ;  Half  Calf,  $10  00. 

MACAULAY'S  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  The  History  of  England 
from  the  Accession  of  James  II.  By  Thomas  Babington  Macadlay. 
5  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth,  $10  00;  Sheep,  $12  50;  Half  Calf,  $21  25;  12mo, 
Cloth,  $-1  50  ;  Sheep,  $6  50  ;  Half  Calf,  $13  25. 

MACAULAY'S  LIFE  AND  LETTERS.  The  Life  and  Letters  of  Lord 
Macaulay.  By  his  Nephew,  G.  Otto  Trevelyan,  M.P.  With  Por- 
trait on  Steel.  Complete  in  2  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  uncut  edges  and  gilt 
tops,  $5  00;  Sheep,  $6  00;  Half  Calf,  $9  50.  Popular  Edition,  2 
vols,  in  one,  12mo,  Cloth,  $1  75. 

FORSTER'S  LIFE  OF  DEAN  SWIFT.  The  Early  Life  of  Jonathan 
Swift  (1007-1711).    By  John  FoKSTEK,    With  Portrait.     Svo,  Cloth, 

$2  50. 

♦GREEN'S  SHORT  HISTORY  OF  THE  ENGLISH  PEOPLE.  A 
Short  History  of  the  English  People.  By  J.  R.  Green,  M.A.,  Exam- 
iner in  the  School  of  Modern  History,  Oxford.  With  Tables  and  Col- 
ored Maps.     8vo,  Cloth,  $1  30, 

HALLAM'S  MIDDLE  AGES.  View  of  the  State  of  Europe  during 
the  Middle  Ages.  By  Henky  Hallam.  Svo,  Cloth,  $2  00 ;  Sheep, 
$2  50 ;  Half  Calf,  $4  25. 

HALLAM'S  CONSTITUTIONAL  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.  The 
Constitutional  History  of  England,  from  the  Accession  of  Henry  VII. 
to  the  Death  of  George  II.  By  Henry  Hallam.  Svo,  Cloth,  $2  00 ; 
Sheep,  $2  50 ;  Half  Calf,  $4  25. 

HALLAM'S  LITERATURE.  Introduction  to  the  Literature  of  Europe 
during  the  Fifteenth,  Sixteenth,  and  Seventeenth  Centuries.  By  Hen- 
ry Hallam.  2  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth,  $4  00;  Sheep,  $5  00;  Half  Calf, 
$8  50. 

SCHWEINFURTH'S  HEART  OF  AFRICA.  The  Heart  of  Africa. 
Three  Years'  Travels  and  Adventures  in  the  Unexplored  Regions  of  the 
Centre  of  Africa.  From  1808  to  1871.  By  Dr.  Georg  Sciiwein- 
FCRTii.  Translated  by  Ellen  E.  Frewer.  Witii  an  Introduction  by 
WiNWooD  Reaue.  Illustrated  by  about  130  Woodcuts  from  Drawings 
made  by  the  Author,  and  with  two  Maps.     2  vols.,  Svo,  Cloth,  $8  00. 


4     Valuable  and  Interesting  Works  for  Public  and  Private  Libraries. 

M'CLINTOCK  &  STRONG'S  CYCLOPtEDIA.  Cyclopajdia  of  Bib- 
lical, Theological,  and  Ecclesiastical  Literature.  Prejjared  by  the  Kev. 
JoiiK  M'Clintock,  D.D.,  and  James  Strong,  S.T.D.  7  vols,  now 
ready.  Koyal  8vo.  Price  per  vol.,  Cloth,  $5  00;  Sheep,  $6  00; 
Half  Morocco,  $8  00. 

JIOIIAMMED  AND  MOHAMMEDANISM:  Lectures  Delivered  at 
the  Royal  Institution  of  Great  Britain  in  February  and  March,  1874. 
By  R.  BoswoRTH  Smith,  M.A.,  Assistant  IMaster  in  Harrow  School; 
late  Fellow  of  Trinity  College,  Oxford.  With  an  Appendix  containing 
Emanuel  Deutsch's  Article  on  "Islam."     12mo,  Cloth,  $1  50. 

MOSIIEIJI'S  ECCLESIASTICAL  HISTORY,  Ancient  and  Modern  ; 
in  which  the  Rise,  Progress,  and  Variation  of  Church  Power  are  con- 
sidered in  their  Connection  with  the  State  of  Learning  and  Philosophy, 
and  the  Political  History  of  Europe  during  that  Period.  Translated, 
■with  Notes,  &c.,  by  A.  Maclaine,  D.D.  Continued  to  182G,  by  C. 
CooTE,  LL.D.  2  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  $4  00;  Sheep,  $5  00;  Half  Calf, 
$8  50. 

HARPER'S  NEW  CLASSICAL  LIBRARY.     Literal  Translations. 

The  following  Volumes  are  now  ready.     12mo,  Cloth,  $1  50  each. 

C^SAR.  —  Virgil.  —  Sallust.  —  Horace.  —  Cicero's  Orations. — 
Cicero's  Offices,  &c. — Cicero  on  Oratory  and  Orators. — 
Tacitcs  (2  vols.). — Terence. — Sophocles. — Juvenal. — Xeno- 
THON. — Homer's  Iliad. — Homer's  Odyssey. — Herodotus. — De- 
mosthenes (2  vols.). — Thucydides. — jEschylus. — Euripides  (2 
vols.). — LivY  (2  vols.). — Plato  [Select  Dialogues]. 

LIVINGSTONE'S  SOUTH  AFRICA.  Missionary  Travels  and  Re- 
searches in  South  Africa:  including  a  Sketch  of  Sixteen  Y'ears'  Resi- 
dence in  the  Interior  of  Africa,  and  a  Journey  from  the  Cape  of  Good 
Hope  to  Loanda  on  the  West  Coast ;  tlience  across  the  Continent,  down 
the  River  Zambesi,  to  the  Eastern  Ocean.  By  David  Livingstone, 
LL.D.,  D.C.L.  With  Portrait,  Maps,  and  Illustrations.  8vo,  Cloth, 
$4  50 ;  Sheep,  $5  00  ;  Half  Calf,  $G  75. 

LIVINGSTONE'S  ZAMBESI.  Narrative  of  an  Expedition  to  the  Zam- 
besi and  its  Tributaries,  and  of  the  Discoveiy  of  the  Lakes  Shirwa  and 
Nvassa,  1858-18G4.  By  David  and  Charles  Livingstone.  With 
Map  and  Illustrations.     8vo,  Cloth,  $5  00;  Sheep,  $5  50;  Half  Calf, 

$7  25. 

LIVINGSTONE'S  LAST  JOURNALS.  The  Last  Journals  of  David 
Livingstone,  in  Central  Africa,  from  1865  to  his  Death.  Continued  by 
a  Narrative  of  his  Last  Moments  and  Sufferings,  obtained  from  his 
Faithful  Senants  Chuma  and  Susi.  By  Horace  Waller,  F.R.G.S., 
Rector  of  Twvwell,  Northampton.  With  Portrait,  Maps,  and  Illustra- 
tions. 8vo,  Cloth,  $5  00 ;  Sheep,  $5  50 ;  Half  Calf,  $7  25.  Cheap 
Popular  Edition,  8vo,  Cloth,  with  Map  and  Illustrations,  $2  50. 

GROTE'S  HISTORY  OF  GREECE.  12  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $18  00; 
Sheep,  $22  80  ;  Half  Calf,  $30  00. 


Valuable  and  Interesting  Works  for  Public  and  Private  Libraries.     5 

RECLUS'S  EARTH.  The  Earth :  a  Descriptive  History  of  the  Phe- 
nomena of  the  Life  of  the  Globe.  By  fiLisEE  Reclus.  With  234  Maps 
and  Illustrations,  and  23  Page  Maps  printed  in  Colors.  8vo,  Cloth, 
$5  00;  Half  Calf,  $7  25. 

RECLUS'S  OCEAN.  The  Ocean,  Atmosphere,  and  Life.  Being  the 
Second  Series  of  a  Descriptive  History  of  the  Life  of  the  Globe.  By 
Elisee  Reclus.  Profusely  Illustrated  with  250  Maps  or  Figures,  and 
27  Maps  printed  in  Colors.     8vo,  Cloth,  $G  GO ;  Half  Calf,  $8  25. 

NORDHOFF'S  COMMUNISTIC  SOCIETIES  OF  THE  UNITED 
STATES.  The  Communistic  Societies  of  the  United  States,  from  Per- 
sonal Visit  and  Observation  ;  including  Detailed  Accounts  of  the  Econ- 
omists, Zoarites,  Shakers,  the  Amana,  Oneida,  Bethel,  Aurora,  Icarian, 
and  other  existing  Societies.  With  Particulars  of  their  Religious  Creeds 
and  Practices,  their  Social  Theories  and  Life,  Numbers,  Industries,  and 
Present  Condition.  By  Charles  Nordhoff.  Illustrations.  8vo, 
Cloth,  $4  00. 

NORDHOFF'S  CALIFORNIA.  Califoraia :  for  Health,  Pleasure,  and 
Residence.  A  Book  for  Travellers  and  Settlers.  Illustrated.  8vo, 
Cloth,  $2  50. 

NORDHOFF'S  NORTHERN  CALIFORNIA,  OREGON,  AND  THE 
SANDWICH  ISLANDS.  Noithern  California,  Oregon,  and  the  Sand- 
wich Islands.      By  Charles  Nordhoff.      Illustrated.      8vo,  Cloth, 

$2  50. 

PARTON'S  CARICATURE.  Caricature  and  Other  Comic  Art,  in  All 
Times  and  Many  Lands.  By  James  Partox.  With  203  Illustrations. 
8vo,  Cloth.     {Nearly  Ready.) 

*RAWLINSON'S  MANUAL  OF  ANCIENT  HISTORY.  A  Manual 
of  Ancient  History,  from  the  Earliest  Times  to  the  Fall  of  the  Western 
Empire.  Comprising  the  History  of  Ciialdaa,  Assyria,  Media,  Baby- 
lonia, Lydia,  Phoenicia,  Syria,  Juda;a,  Egypt,  Carthage,  Persia,  Greece, 
Macedonia,  Parthia,  and  Rome.  By  George  Rawlinson,  M.A., 
Camden  Professor  of  Ancient  Histoiy  in  the  University  of  Oxford. 
12mo,  Cloth,  %l  25. 

NICHOLS'S  ART  EDUCATION.  Art  Education  applied  to  Industry. 
By  George  Ward  Nichols,  Author  of  "  The  Story  of  the  Great 
March."     Illustrated.     8vo,  Cloth,  $4  00. 

BAKER'S  ISINIAILIA.  Ismailia :  a  Narrative  of  the  Expedition  to  Cen- 
tral Africa  for  the  Suppression  of  the  Slave-trade,  organized  by  Ismail, 
Khedive  of  Egypt.  By  Sir  Samuel  White  Baker,  Pasha,  F.R.S., 
F.  R.  G.  S.  With  Maps,  Portraits,  and  Illustrations.  8 vo,  Cloth,  $5  00 ; 
Half  Calf,  $7  25. 

BOSWELL'S  JOHNSON.  The  Life  of  Samuel  Johnson,  LL.D.,  in- 
cluding a  Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the  Hebrides.  By  James  Boswell, 
Esq.  Edited  by  John  Wilson  Croker,  LL.D.,  F.R.S.  With  a  Por- 
trait of  Boswell,  2  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  $4  00 ;  Sheep,  $5  00  ;  Half  Calf, 
$8  50. 


6     Valuable  and  Interesting  Works  for  Public  and  Private  Libraries. 

VAN-LENNEP'S  BIBLE  LANDS.  Bible  Lands :  their  Modern  Cus- 
toms and  Manners  Illustrative  of  Scripture.  By  the  Eev.  Hexry  J. 
Van-Lennep,  D.U.  Illustrated  with  upward  of3")0  Wood  Engravings 
and  two  Colored  Maps.  838  pp.,  8vo,  Cloth,  f  5  00;  Sheep,  $G  00; 
Half  JMorocco,  $8  00. 

VINCENT'S  LAND  OF  THE  WHITE  ELEPHANT.  The  Land  of 
the  White  Elephant :  Sights  and  Scenes  in  Southeastern  Asia.  A  Per- 
sonal Narrative  of  Travel  and  Adventure  in  Farther  India,  embracing 
the  Countries  of  Burma,  Siam,  Cambodia,  and  Cochin-China  (1871-2). 
By  Frank  Vincent,  Jr.  Illustrated  with  Maps,  Plans,  and  Woodcuts. 
Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  $3  50. 

SHAKSPEARE.  The  Dramatic  Works  of  William  Shakspeare.  With 
Conections  and  Notes.  Engravings.  6  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $9  00.  2 
vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  $-i  00;  Sheep,  %o  00.  In  one  vol.,  8vo,  Sheep, 
$4  00. 

SMILES'S  HISTORY  OF  THE  HUGUENOTS.  The  Huguenots: 
their  Settlements,  Churches,  and  Industries  in  England  and  Ireland. 
By  Samuel  Smiles.  Witii  an  Appendix  relating  to  the  Huguenots  in 
America.     Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

SMILES'S  HUGUENOTS  AFTER  THE  REVOCATION.  Tiie  Hu- 
guenots in  France  after  the  Revocation  of  the  Edict  of  Nantes ;  with  a 
Visit  to  the  Country  of  the  Vaudois.  By  Samuel  Smiles.  Crown 
8vo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

SMILES'S  LIFE  OF  THE  STEPHENSONS.  Tlie  Life  of  George 
Stephenson,  and  of  his  Son,  l{obert  Stephenson ;  comprising,  also,  a 
History  of  the  Invention  and  Introduction  of  tlie  Railway  Locomotive. 
By  Samuel  Sjiiles.  With  Steel  Portraits  and  numerous  Illustrations. 
8vo,  Cloth,  $3  00. 

SQUIER'S  PERU.  Peru :  Incidents  of  Travel  and  Exploration  in  the 
Land  of  the  Incas.  By  E.  George  Squier,  ]M.  A.,  F.S.A.,  late  U.  S. 
Commissioner  to  Peru,  Author  of  "  Nicaragua,"  "Ancient  Monuments 
of  Mississijipi  Valley,"  &c.,  &c.    With  Illustrations.    8vo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

STRICKLAND'S  (JIiss)  QUEENS  OF  SCOTLAND.  Lives  of  the 
Queens  of  Scotland  and  English  Piincesses  connected  with  the  liegal 
Succession  of  Great  Britain.  Bv  Agnes  Strickland.  8  vols.,  12mo, 
Cloth,  $12  00  ;  Half  Calf,  $2G  00. 

THE  "CHALLENGER"  EXPEDITION.  The  Atlantic:  an  Account 
of  the  General  Results  of  the  Exploring  Expedition  of  H.^I.S.  "Chal- 
lenger." By  Sir  Wyville  Thomson,  K.C.B.,  F.R.S.  With  numer- 
ous Illustrations,  Colored  Maps,  and  Charts,  from  Drawings  by  J.  J. 
AVyld,  engraved  by  J.  D.  Cooper,  and  Portrait  of  the  Author,  engraved 
by  C.  H.  Jeens.     2  vols.,  8vo.     {In  Press.) 

BOURNE'S  LIFE  OF  JOHN  LOCKE.  The  Life  of  John  Locke.  By 
H.  R.  Fox  Bourne.  2  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  uncut  edges  and  gilt  tops, 
85  00. 


Vahtahle  and  Interesting  Works  for  Public  and  Private  Libraries.      7 

ALISON'S  HISTORY  OF  EUROPE.  First  Series  :  From  the  Com- 
mencement of  the  French  Revolution,  in  1789,  to  the  Restoration  of 
the  Bourbons  in  1815.  [In  addition  to  the  Notes  on  Chapter  LXXVI., 
which  correct  tlie  errors  of  the  original  woric  concerning  the  United 
States,  a  copious  Analytical  Index  has  been  appended  to  this  American 
Edition.]  Second  Series:  From  the  Fall  of  Napoleon,  in  1815,  to 
the  Accession  of  Louis  Napoleon,  in  1852.  8  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  $1G  00 ; 
Sheep,  $20  00 ;  Half  Calf,  $34  00. 

WALLACES  GEOGRAPHICAL  DISTRIBUTION  OF  ANIMALS. 
The  Geographical  Distribution  of  Animals.  AVith  a  Study  of  the  Re- 
lations of  Living  and  Extinct  Faunas  as  Elucidating  the  Past  Changes 
of  the  Earth's  Surface.  By  Alfred  Russel  Wallace.  With  Maps 
and  Illustrations.     In  2  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  $10  00. 

WALLACE'S  MALAY  ARCHIPELAGO.  The  Malay  Archipelago: 
the  Land  of  the  Orang-Utan  and  the  Bird  of  Paradise.  A  Narrative 
of  Travel,  1854-18G2.  With  Studies  of  Man  and  Nature.  By  Alfred 
Russel  Wallace.  With  Ten  Maps  and  Fifty-one  Elegant  Illustra- 
tions.    Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  $2  50. 

GIBBON'S  ROME.  The  History  of  the  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman 
Empire.  By  Edward  Gibbon.  With  Notes  by  Rev.  H.  H.  Milman 
and  M.  Guizot.  With  Index.  G  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $5  40;  Sheep, 
$7  80;  Half  Calf,  $15  90. 

GRIFFIS'S  JAPAN.  The  Mikado's  Empire:  Book  L  History  of  Japan, 
from  GGO  B.C.  to  1872  A.D.  Book  II.  Personal  Experiences,  Observa- 
tions, and  Studies  in  Japan,  1870-1874.  By  William  Elliot  Grif- 
Fis,  A.M.,  late  of  the  Imperial  University  of  Tukio,  Japan.  Copiously 
Illustrated.     8vo,  Cloth,  $4  00  ;  Half  Calf,  $G  25. 

THOMPSON'S  PAPACY  AND  THE  CIVIL  POWER.  The  Papacy 
and  the  Civil  Power.  By  the  Hon.  R.  W.  Thompson,  Secretary  of 
the  U.  S.  Navy.     Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  $3  00. 

THE  POETS  AND  POETRY  OF  SCOTLAND :  from  the  Earliest 
to  the  Present  Time.  Comprising  Characteristic  Selections  from  the 
Works  of  the  more  Noteworthy  Scottish  Poets,  with  Biographical  and 
Critical  Notices.  By  James  Grant  Wilson.  With  Portraits  on  Steel. 
2  volumes,  8vo,  Cloth,  $10  00;  Half  Calf,  $14  50;  Full  Morocco, 
$18  00. 

*THE  STUDENT'S  SERIES.  With  Maps  and  Illustrations.  12mo, 
Cloth. 

France. — Gibbon. — Greece. — Hume. — Rome  (by  Liddell). — Old 
Testament  History. — New  Testament  History. — Strickland's 
Queens  of  England  (Abridged).  — Anciknt  History  of  the 
East. — Hallam's  Middle  Ages. — Hallam's  Constitutional 
History  of  England. — Lyp:ll's  Elements  of  Geology. — Meri- 
vale's  General  History  of  Rome. — Cox's  General  History 
of  Greece. — Classical  Dictionary.     Price  $1  25  per  volume. 

Lewis's  History  of  Germany.     Price  $1  50. 


8     Valuable  and  Interesting  WorJis  for  Public  and  Private  Libraries. 

CARLYLE'S  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.  History  of  Friedrich  II., 
called  Frederick  the  Great.  By  Tho3i.\s  Carlyle.  Portraits,  Maps, 
Plans,  &c.     6  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $12  00;  Sheep,  $14  40;  Half  Calf, 

$22  50. 

THE  REVISION  OF  THE  ENGLISH  VERSION  OF  THE  NEW 
TESTAMENT.     With  an  Introduction  by  the  Rev.  P.  Schaff,  D.D. 
C18  pp.,  Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  $3  00. 
This  work  embraces  in  one  volume  : 

I.  ON  A  FRESH  REVISION  OF  THE  ENGLISH  NEW  TES- 
TAMENT. By  J.  B.  LiGHTFOOT,  D.D.,  Canon  of  St.  Paul's, 
and  Hulsean  Professor  of  Divinity,  Cambridge.  Second  Edition, 
Revised.     I9G  pp. 

IL  ON  THE  AUTHORIZED  VERSION  OF  THE  NEW  TES- 
TAMENT in  Connection  with  some  Recent  Proposals  for  its 
Revision.  By  Richard  Chenevix  Trench,  D.D.,  Arch- 
bishop of  Dublin.     194  pp. 

III.  CONSIDERATIONS  ON  THE  REVISION  OF  THE  EN- 
GLISH VERSION  OF  THE  NEW  TESTAMENT.  By  C. 
J.  Ellicott,  D.D.,  Bishop  of  Gloucester  and  Bristol.     178  pp. 

ADDISON'S  CO.AIPLETE  WORKS.  The  Works  of  Joseph  Addison, 
embracing  the  whole  of  the  Spectator.  3  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  $6  00; 
Sheep,  $7  50  ;  Half  Calf,  $12  75. 

AN'NUAL  RECORD  OF  SCIENCE  AND  INTDUSTRY.  The  Annual 
Record  of  Science  and  Industry.  Edited  by  Professor  Spexcer  F. 
Baird,  of  the  Smithsonian  Institution,  with  the  Assistance  of  Eminent 
Men  of  Science.  The  Yearlv  Volumes  for  1871,  1872,  1873,  1874, 1875, 
1876  are  ready.     12mo,  Cloth,  $2  00  per  vol. 

BROUGHAM'S  AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  Life  and  Times  of  Henry,  Lord 
Brougham.     Written  by  Himself.     3  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $C  00. 

BULWER'S  HORACE.  The  Odes  and  Epodes  of  Horace.  A  Metrical 
Translation  into  English.  With  Introduction  and  Commentaries.  By 
Lord  Ltttox.  With  Latin  Text  from  the  Editions  of  Orelli,  Mac- 
leane,  and  Yongc.     12mo,  Cloth,  $1  75. 

BULWER'S  KING  ARTHUR.  King  Arthur.  A  Poem.  By  Lord 
Ltttox.     12mo,  Cloth,  $1  75. 

BULWER'S  PROSE  WORKS.  The  Miscellaneous  Prose  Works  of 
Edward  Bulwer,  Lord  Lytton.  2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $3  50.  Also,  in 
uniform  style,  Caxtoniana.     12mo,  Cloth,  $1  75. 

DAVIS'S  CARTHAGE.  Carthage  and  her  Remains  :  being  an  Account 
of  the  Excavations  and  Researches  on  the  Site  of  the  Phoenician  Me- 
tropolis in  Africa  and  other  Adjacent  Places.  Conducted  under  the 
Auspices  of  Her  Majesty's  Government.  By  Dr.  N.  Davis,  F.R.G.S. 
Profusely  Illustrated  with  Maps,  Woodcuts,  Chromo-Lithographs,  &c. 
8vo,  Cloth,  $4  00 ;  Half  Calf,  $G  25. 


Valuable  and  Inieresting  Works  for  Public  and  Private  Libraries.      9 

CAMERON'S  ACROSS  AFRICA.  Across  Africa.  By  Vernet  Lov- 
ETT  Cameron,  C.B.,  D.C.L.,  Commander  Royal  Navy,  Gold  Medal- 
ist Royal  Geographical  Society,  &c.  AYith  a  Map  and  Numerous  Illus- 
trations.    8vo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

CARLYLE'S  FRENCH  REVOLUTION.  The  French  Revolution :  a 
History.  By  Thomas  Caelyle.  2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $3  50;  Sheep, 
f  i  30  ;  Half  Calf,  $7  00. 

CARLYLE'S  OLIVER  CROMWELL.  Oliver  Cromwell's  Letters  and 
Speeches,  including  the  Supplement  to  the  First  Edition.  With  P^luci- 
dations.  By  Thomas  Carltle.  2  vols.,  12rao,  Cloth,  $3  60;  Sheep, 
$4  30 ;  Half  Calf,  $7  00. 

EARTH'S  NORTH  AND  CENTRAL  AFRICA.  Travels  and  Dis- 
coveries  in  North  and  Central  Africa :  being  a  Journal  of  an  Expedi- 
tion undertaken  under  the  Auspices  of  H.B.M.'s  Government,  in  the 
Years  1849-1855.  By  Henry  Barth,  Ph.D.,  D.C.L.  Illustrated. 
3  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  $12  00 ;  Sheep,  $13  50  ;  Half  Calf,  $18  75. 

THOMSON'S  LAND  AND  BOOK.  The  Land  and  the  Book ;  or, 
Biblical  Illustrations  drawn  from  the  Manners  and  Customs,  the  Scenes 
and  the  Scenery,  of  the  Holy  Land.  By  W.  M.  Thomson,  D.D.,  Twen- 
ty-five Years  a  Missionary  of  the  A.B.C.F.M.  in  Syria  and  Palestine. 
With  two  elaborate  Maps  of  Palestine,  an  accurate  JPlan  of  Jerusalem, 
and  several  hundred  Engravings,  representing  the  Scenery,  Topogra- 
phy, and  Productions  of  the  Holy  Land,  and  the  Costumes,  Manners, 
and  Habits  of  the  People.  2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $5  00 :  Sheep,  $6  00 : 
Half  Calf,  $8  50. 

TENNYSON'S  COMPLETE  POEMS.  The  Poetical  Works  of  Alfred 
Tennyson,  Poet  Laureate.  With  numerous  Illustrations  by  Eminent 
Artists,  and  Three  Characteristic  Portraits.  8vo,  Paper,  $1  00 ;  Cloth, 
$1  50. 

CRUISE  OF  THE  "CHALLENGER."  Voyages  over  many  Seas, 
Scenes  in  many  Lands.  By  W.  J.  J.  Spry,  R.N.  With  Map  and  Il- 
lustrations.    Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

DU  CHAILLU'S  AFRICA.  Explorations  and  Adventures  in  Equa- 
torial Africa :  with  Accounts  of  the  Manners  and  Customs  of  the  Peo- 
ple, and  of  the  Chase  of  the  Gorilla,  tlie  C'rocodile,  Leopard,  Elephant, 
Hippopotamus,  and  other  Animals.  By  Pauf-  15.  Du  Chaillu.  Illus- 
trated.    8vo,  Cloth,  $5  00 ;  Sheep,  $5  50  ;  Half  Calf,  $7  25. 

DU  CHAILLU'S  ASHANGO  LAND.  A  Journey  to  Ashango  Land, 
and  Further  Penetration  into  Equatorial  Africa.  Bv  Paul  B.  Du 
Chaillu.  Illustrated.  8vo,  Cloth,  $5  00 ;  Sheep,  $5*50;  Half  Calf, 
$7  25. 

WHITE'S  MASSACRE  OF  ST.  BARTHOLOMEW.  Tlie  Massacre 
of  St.  Bartholomew :  Preceded  by  a  History  of  the  Religious  Wars  in 
tlie  Reign  of  Charles  IX.  By  Henry  White,  M.A.  With  Illustra- 
tions.    Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  $1  75. 


10    Valuable  and  Interesting  Works  for  Public  and  Private  Libraries. 

DRAPER'S  CIVIL  WAR.  History  of  the  American  Civil  War.  By 
John  W.  Draper,  M.D.,  LL.D.  3  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  Beveled  Edges, 
$10  50;  Sheep,  $12  00;  Half  Calf,  $17  25. 

DRAPER'S  INTELLECTUAL  DEVELOPMENT  OF  EUROPE.  A 
History  of  the  Intellectual  Development  of  Europe.  By  John  W. 
Draper,  M.D.,  LL.D.  New  Edition,  Revised.  2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth, 
$3  00  ;  Half  Calf,  $6  50. 

DRAPER'S  AMERICAN  CIVIL  POLICY.  Thoughts  on  the  Future 
(^ivil  Policy  of  America.  By  John  W.  Draper,  M.D.,  LL.D.,  Pro- 
fessor of  Cliemistry  and  Pliysiology  in  the  University  of  New  York. 
Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  $2  00;  Half  Morocco,  $3  75. 

WOOD'S  HOMES  WITHOUT  Hi^STDS.  Homes  Without  Hands: 
being  a  Description  of  the  Habitations  of  Animals,  classed  according  to 
their  Principle  of  Construction.  By  J.  G.  Wood,  M.A.,  F.L.S.  Il- 
lustrated.   8vo,  Cloth,  $4  50 ;  Sheep  or  Roan,  $5  00 ;  Half  Calf,  $6  75. 

FLAMMARION'S  ATMOSPHERE.  The  Atmosphere.  Translated 
from  the  French  of  Camille  Flammarion.  Edited  by  James  Glai- 
SHER,  F.R.S.,  Superintendent  of  the  ]\Iagnetical  and  INIeteorological 
Department  of  the  Koval  Observatory  at  Greenwich.  With  lOChromo- 
Litiiographs  and  8G  Woodcuts.     8vo,  Cloth,  $G  00  ;  Half  Calf,  $8  25. 

ABBOTT'S  DICTIONARY  OF  RELIGIOUS   KNOWLEDGE.      A 

Dictionary  of  Religious  Knowledge,  for  Popular  and  Professional  Use  ; 
comprising  full  Information  on  Biblical,  Theological,  and  Ecclesiastical 
Subjects.  With  nearly  One  Thousand  Maps  and  Illustrations.  Ed- 
ited by  the  Rev.  Lyman  Apijott,  with  the  Co-operation  of  the  Rev. 
T.  C.  Conant,  D.  D.  Royal  8vo,  containing  over  1000  pages.  Cloth, 
$6  00  ;  Sheep,  $7  00  ;  Half  Morocco,  $8  50. 

ABBOTT'S  FREDERICK  THE  GREAT.  The  History  of  Frederick 
the  Second,  called  Frederick  the  Great.  Bv  John  S.  C.  Abbott.  Il- 
lustrated.    8vo,  Cloth,  $5  00 ;  Half  Calf,  %1  25. 

ABBOTTS  HISTORY  OF  THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION.      The 

French  Revolution  of  178!),  as  viewed  in  the  Light  of  Republican  Insti- 
tutions. Bv  John  S.  C.  Abbott.  Illustrated.  8vo,  Cloth,  $5  00 ; 
Sheep,  $5  50  ;  Half  Calf,  $7  25. 

ABBOTT'S  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  The  History  of  Napoleon 
Bonaparte.  By  John  S.  C.  Abbott.  With  I\Iaps,  Illustrations,  and 
Portraits  on  Steel.  2  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  $10  00;  Sheep,  $11  00;  Half 
Calf,  $14  50. 

ABBOTT'S  NAPOLEON  AT  ST.  HELENA.  Napoleon  at  St.  Hele- 
na:  or,  Interesting  Anecdotes  and  Remarkable  Conversations  of  the 
Emperor  during  the  Five  and  a  Half  Years  of  his  Captivity.  Collected 
from  the  Memorials  of  Las  Casas,  O'Meara,  ISIontliolon,  Antommarchi, 
and  others.  Bv  John  S.  C.  Abbott.  Illustrated.  8vo,  Cloth,  §5  00; 
Sheep,  $5  50  ;'  Half  Calf,  $7  25. 


Valuable  and  Interesthtg  Works  for  Public  and  Private  Libraries.    1 1 

SCHAFFS  CREEDS  OF  CHRISTENDOM.  Bibliotheca  Symbolica 
Ecclesiie  Universalis.  The  Creeds  of  Christendom,  with  a  History  and 
Critical  Notes.  By  Philip  Schaff,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  Professor  of  i3ibli- 
cal  Literature  in  the  Union  Tlieological  Seminary,  New  York.  3  vols. 
Vol.  I.  :  The  History  of  Creeds.  Vol.  II.  :  The  Greek  and  Latin 
Creeds,  with  Translations.  Vol.  III.:  The  Evangelical  Protestant 
Creeds,  with  Translations.     8vo,  Cloth,  $15  00, 

YONGE'S  LIFE  OF  MARIE  ANTOINETTE.  The  Life  of  Marie 
Antoinette,  Queen  of  France.  By  Charles  Dcke  Yonge,  Regius 
Professor  of  Modern  History  and  English  Literature  in  Queen's  Col- 
lege, Belfast.     With  Portrait.     Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  $2  50. 

POETS  OF  THE  NINETEENTH  CENTURY.  The  Poets  of  the 
Nineteenth  Century.  Selected  and  Edited  by  the  Rev.  Robert  Aris 
WiLLMOTT.  With  English  and  American  Additions,  arranged  by  Evert 
A.  DuYCKiNCK,  Editor  of  "  Cyclopaedia  of  American  Literature."  Com- 
prising Selections  from  the  Greatest  Authors  of  the  Age.  Superbly  Il- 
lustrated with  141  Engravings  from  Designs  by  the  most  Eminent  Art- 
ists. In  Elegant  small  4to  form,  printed  on  Superfine  Tinted  Paper, 
richly  bound  in  extra  Cloth,  Beveled,  Gilt  Edges,  $5  00 ;  Half  Calf, 
|5  50  ;  Full  Turkey  Morocco,  $9  00. 

COLERIDGE'S  COMPLETE  WORKS.  The  Complete  Works  of  Sam- 
uel Taylor  Coleridge.  With  an  Introductory  Essay  upon  his  Philosoph- 
ical and  Theological  Opinions.  Edited  by  the  Rev.  W.  G.  T.  Shedd, 
D.D.     With  a  Portrait.     7  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $10  50;   Half  Calf, 

$22  75. 

COLERIDGE'S  (Sara)  MEMOIR  AND  LETTERS.  Memoir  and  Let- 
ters of  Sara  Coleridge.  Edited  by  her  Daughter.  With  Two  Portraits 
on  Steel.     Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  $2  50;  Half  Calf,  $4  25. 

TYERMAN'S  WESLEY.  The  Life  and  Times  of  the  Rev.  John  Wes- 
lev,  M.A.,  Founder  of  the  Methodists.  By  the  Rev.  Luke  Tterman. 
With  Portraits.     3  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  $7  50 ;  Half  Calf,  $14  25. 

TYERMAN'S  OXFORD  METHODISTS.  The  Oxford  Methodists : 
Memoirs  of  the  Rev.  Messrs.  Clayton,  Ingham,  Gambold,  Hervey,  and 
Broughton,  willi  Biographical  Notices  of  others.  By  the  Rev.  L.  Tyer- 
MAN.     With  Portraits.     8vo,  Cloth,  $2  50, 

VAMB:fiRY'S  CENTRAL  ASIA.  Travels  in  Central  Asia.  Being 
the  Account  of  a  Journey  from  Teheran  across  the  Turkoman  Desert, 
on  the  Eastern  Shore  of  the  Caspian,  to  Khiva,  Bokhara,  and  Sam.ar- 
oand,  performed  in  the  Year  1803.  By  Arminius  Vambkry,  Member 
of  the  Hungarian  Academy  of  Pesth,  by  whom  he  was  sent  on  this  Sci- 
entific Mission.  With  Map  and  Illustrations,  8vo,  Cloth,  $4  50 ;  Half 
Calf,  $G  75. 

LYMAN  BEECHER'S  AUTOBIOGRAPHY,  &c.  Autobiography, 
Correspondence,  &c.,  of  Lyman  Beecher,  D.I).  Edited  by  his  Son, 
Charles  Beecher.  With  Three  Steel  Portraits,  and  Engravings  on 
Wood.     2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $5  00 ;  Half  Morocco,  $8  50. 


12     Valuable  and  Interesting  Works  for  Public  and  Private  Libraries. 

THE  DESERT  OF  THE  EXODUS.  Journeys  on  Foot  in  the  Wil- 
deine:^s  of  the  Forty  Years'  Wanderings ;  undertaken  in  connection 
with  the  Ordnance  Survey  of  Sinai  and  the  Palestine  Exploration  Fund. 
By  E.  H.  Palmer,  M.A.,  Lord  Almoner's  Professor  of  Arabic,  and 
Fellow  of  St.  John's  College,  Cambridge.  With  Maps  and  numerous 
Illustrations  from  Photographs  and  Drawings  taken  on  the  spot  hy  the 
Sinai  Survey  Expedition  and  C.  F.  Tyrwhitt  Drake.  Crown  Svo,  Cloth, 
$3  00. 

DRAKES  NOOKS  AND   CORNERS  OF  THE  NEW  ENGLAND 

COAST.  Nooks  and  Corners  of  the  New  F^ngland  Coast.  By  Sam- 
uel Adams  Drake,  Author  of  "Old  Landmarks  of  Boston,"  "His- 
toric Fields  and  Mansions  of  Middlesex,"  &c.  Illustrated.  Svo,  Cloth, 
$3  50 ;  Half  Calf,  $5  75. 

BENJAMIN'S  CONTEMPORARY  ART.  Contemporary  Art  in  Eu- 
rope. By  S.  G.  W.  Benjajiix.  Handsomely  Illustrated.  8vo.  {In 
Press.) 

TROWBRIDGE'S  POEMS.  The  Book  of  Gold,  and  Other  Poems.  By 
J.  T.  Trowbridge.     Handsomely  Illustrated.     Svo.     (/n  Press.) 

THOMSON'S  MALACCA,  INDO-CHINA,  AND  CHINA.  The  Straits 
of  Malacca,  Indo-China,  and  China ;  or.  Ten  Years'  Travels.  Advent- 
ures, and  Residence  Abroad.  By  J.  Thomson,  F.R.G.S.  With  over 
60  Illustrations  from  the  Author's  own  Photographs  and  Sketches.  Svo, 
Cloth,  $4  00. 

TREVELYAN'S  SELECTIONS  FROM  INIACAULAY.  Selections 
from  the  Writings  of  Lord  Macaulav.  B  v  his  Nephew,  G.  Otto  Tkevel- 
yan,  M.P.  for  Hawick  District  of  Burghs.     Svo,  Cloth,  ^2  50. 

PRIME'S  OUR  CHILDREN'S  SONGS.  Our  Children's  Songs.  With 
Illustrations.     Svo.     (In  Press.) 


THE  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

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